


Pinky Swear

by BasicBaroness



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - School, Canon-Typical Violence, Exorcists are a society that live parellel with human society, Exorcists have their own government, F/M, Sexual references (non-explicit), Some mature content and violence, Soul Bond, exorcist AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 06:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 79,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16907784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasicBaroness/pseuds/BasicBaroness
Summary: "You can exorcise me if you want, but you probably don't want to, nor do you want your friends to. ""And why is that?" Maka huffed, unimpressed."Because if you exorcise me, Maka," he told her, lifting his arm to show her an odd mark on the back of his smallest finger, "you'll go right back to hell with me."AU in which Maka is an exorcist who, entirely by accident, becomes the first of her kind in over a thousand years to soul bond with a demon -- and must scramble to undo it before her career, reputation, and life are all irreparably shattered.





	1. The Bond

Maka's breath stung her lungs as she ran, tripping and sliding the whole way. Ahead of her, she could hear the soft lapping of lakewater. That was where she wanted to be, and the path would have been easy enough under normal circumstances; The slope was gentle and grassy, the trees not too dense. But these were not normal circumstances. It was night, there was almost no moonlight, and the steady rain made her feet slip on the slick vegetation. Her progress would have been smoother if she was going slower, but tonight Maka did not dare stop to nurse grazed knees or inspect the stinging on her cheek. She just ran and ran and ran, because somewhere out in the wilderness with her was a demon.

It had all started with the assignment. Maka was a student exorcist, and her speciality was Fire Exorcisms -- carefully selecting and burning ingredients to aid her banishment incantations. For generations, her family had been born and bred as part of an underground society of demon fighters, protecting the human world from underworld threats. From childhood, exorcists were schooled in special colleges to hone their supernatural abilities. As a senior in one such college, Maka was sometimes sent out on minor investigations into demon activity, if the council deemed it safe for a novice. Ever since her 18th birthday a few months ago, she'd been on a few of these investigations, though this was the furthest from home she'd ever been -- a few hours drive into the mountains.

Of course, "safe for a novice" calls like the ones they sent her on almost always meant "courtesy calls to cases that are almost certainly not demonic." Humans had a nasty habit of seeing demons in every nook and cranny, and though it took a seasoned professional to see the signs of true infestation, even false alarms were usually investigated... Just to be safe. The Exorcist Council liked to be thorough. And it was always the Exorcists in training that copped these calls. But Maka took them anyway, because any extra credit is good extra credit.

So when Maka had been sent to a rural valley, where a wealthy widow had reported some of her prized flock of peafowl had been found torn to shreds for several nights in a row, she assumed it was feral dogs or foxes. Open and shut. Regardless, she had diligently packed her satchel bag full of burning supplies with all the necessities: carefully packaged and labelled herbs, dried fruits, vegetables, animal hair, human hair, bugs, metals, plus a handful of miscellaneous substances just in case -- plus the cotton scraps of fabric and twine, which she used to wrap the ingredients she would burn. In the very front pocket was a lighter, a backup lighter, and a box of matches. In short, Maka took great pains to be ridiculously over-prepared for what should have been an open and shut case.

Of course, as she found herself sprinting for life for the shore of the lake, her shoulder aching where the wolf-like demon had ripped her supply satchel from her body with its razor-sharp claws, Maka was beginning to wonder if there was any such thing as being truly prepared for an exorcism. No matter; while Maka was a fire exorcist by both heritage and formal education, she knew a thing or two about rune exorcisms from her years of schooling. There was, of course, a high chance that she could make a slight misstep in writing the rune and it would be ineffective and she would be torn to shreds, but with no satchel and no help within reach, getting to the shore and scrawling a rune circle in the mud was quickly looking like her only chance of survival. 

Maka nearly stumbled as the treeline broke, giving way to the muddy bank of the lake. Her shoe sunk into the wet earth and when her foot came back up, the shoe didn't come with it. She didn't have time to worry about it. She just picked up the sturdiest stick she could and began writing, trying not to let her hand shake. Every distant thunder rumble or aching branch could be the demon upon her, but she didn't dare look up to see. If it was the demon, looking up wouldn't help her. If it wasn't, she would only waste time by searching the darkness for shapes that weren't there.

"I was definitely expecting my first real exorcism to be a lot more graceful than this," she muttered to herself as she steadily drew the runes, racking her memory for the right ones. She realised now what people meant when they said they didn't know how fire exorcists remembered which ingredients combated what demon types -- burning had always come as almost second nature, but even her rigorous study habits hadn't left her with any confidence in the runes she had learnt as an extra credit class over two years ago. At least, she decided, rune circles for exorcisms were always the same. All she had to do was memorise the pattern correctly and she would walk away alive.

If she didn't... Well, she wouldn't know until the demon was close enough to kill her. So really, if she lived to note whether the circle worked or not, it meant she had been successful. This was probably why she had been taught in school never to attempt a rune exorcism if you were unsure of the runes -- you wouldn't know your mistake until it was too late. 

As Maka began the final of the three rings that made up the intricate circle, she began to wonder if the demon had given up. It would figure, with her luck, that she had run for her life for nothing. Stupid demon was probably uphill tearing up her beautifully organised supply bag. This thought made her write her strokes with renewed vigor, as if aggressively writing the runes would trap the demon any better. 

As Maka paused in the last quarter of the circle to wipe her wet hair off her face and out of her eyes, she heard a terrible roar echo in the valley. Definitely not thunder that time. In fact, it sounded very close. She had been relatively composed up to this point, but with her back to the water, and with a stick and some mud as her only hope of survival, Maka began to succumb to panic, despite her best efforts. With fresh urgency, and the sound of bounding, massive footfalls growing ever closer, Maka began closing the gap in the last ring of her circle. The back of her neck burned, despite the chill of the rain.

Her heart beat in time with the awkward gallop of the demon, her pulse echoing it's approach, growing louder and louder in her ears. Her hand shook as she tried desperately to force her hand steady. A mistake at this point could potentially cost her her life. 

The shrubs at the treeline burst in a spray of green matter and water droplets, and Maka shielded her eyes as the debris flew at her. Before her now stood the demon, it's wolf-like shoulders at her head height and it's breath hot, even from where it stood twenty feet away. Maka and the demon stood for a moment, eyes locked, as the creature dug it's claws into the wet mud and Maka's stick hovered above the spot where she had been about to draw the very last line. The moment seemed suspended in time, almost serene. But like any storm, the eye would come to an end.

The creature crouched, ready to pounce, and as it launched, Maka cried out, stabbed her stick to complete the final rune, and let the magic in her blood take her voice, speaking the primal words that would send the demon back to the underworld where it belonged as she raised her hands up to protect her face, bowing in terror, wishing that she wasn't so alone.

Maka had practiced this many, many times, but in the adrenaline of doing it for real for the very first time, she couldn't even savor it. She didn't hear the words spilling from her own lips, or feel the exorcism magic forming, or see the rune circle light up. All she could see was the maw of the demon through her raised arms. 

'It hasn't worked,' a voice whispered as the demon seemed to approach in slow motion. 'You drew it wrong,' it told her, as she saw the demon open its maw, ready to clamp it's jaws over her head. 'You will die,' cooed the little voice, and Maka screwed her eyes shut to await the sharp, searing pain.

But it wasn't sharp. It didn't hurt. It was warm, and pressed firmly against her. It almost felt like she could lean into it, embrace it. Maybe this was death? But as Maka began to think about it more critically as the shock dripped away, the heat was all at the front of her body. Her arm pressed gently against the source. And she could move her fingers. She wasn't dead. 

Maka opened her eyes slowly, blinking as the rainwater gathered in her eyelashes and blurred her vision. Someone stood before her, their back obscuring her view of the demon that had attacked her. In the dim light, she could only just tell that the figure looked masculine. The shape of their shoulders suggested a suit jacket, but their pale skin made it obvious, in contrast to their long, dark trousers, that they were barefoot. They had a short shock of light hair even lighter than Maka's, and it stood at angles far above Maka's own height. And extended from their arm was a long, sharp shape, that was dripping audibly and heavily into the wet mud. Maka wasn't sure that the substance was water. 

Her better judgement told her to stay still and hope the armed stranger would leave her be, but she ignored it, and stepped aside from behind them to peer where the demon had been. The remains of her circle, now jagged and fragmented from use, circled around Maka and the stranger. And just at the edge stood the wolf demon, its body frozen in place and half.... Missing. It almost looked like it had been cleaved in two from nose to tail, but its body was steadily dissolving into dust from the cut outwards. She had seen a similar phenomenon many times -- when an exorcism is performed, the demon will dissolve from the physical plane, back to the hell it came from. The cut was unusual though, and with a thrill, Maka wondered if her saviour was a new type of exorcist. 

She turned to them, her words of thanks and awe dying on her lips as she beheld the horror before her. It's toothy snarl seemed too wide for its face, flashing teeth that were jagged like a shark's. What she had thought to be a weapon was really more like an appendage -- a metallic blade that burst forth from a stump of flesh that ended at its forearm. From its chest protruded a rod of some kind, though how it was attached was indiscernible in the darkness. It's form seemed awkward, like it's bones weren't quite arranged correctly -- too long in some places and connected at odd angles in others.

This was no exorcist that had banished the wolf demon. In fact... What stood before her was a demon in its own right.

Realising the failure of her circle in exorcising the wolf demon and this new demon's arrival, Maka had a horrible thought. What if she hadn't just drawn the rune circle wrong? What if she had accidentally created a method.... A method for summoning demons?

She barely had any time to process this thought before the demon moved suddenly. Maka jumped back a step, once again very aware of how defenseless she was without her satchel of supplies. It paused when she did this, almost as if it was apologetic. Then, slowly, it continued the gesture. While it's right arm was bladed, it's left was human... Ish. Again, the hand seemed to not quite sit right, like it had been assembled incorrectly, or the bones had been put in backwards. It was with this hand that it reached out, palm up, and stared at her expectantly. Neither of them moved.

Maka stared at the hand, her mind doing backflips trying to discern what the demon could possibly want from her. Was this a new and exciting way to kill her? No....if it was going to, it probably would have done so by now. Was it asking for, or offering something? "I don't understand," she told it, inching away carefully. "What is this? What do you want?" It was useless to ask, she knew. It wasn't like demons could respond to human speech. But maybe it could understand it and make its intent more clear, or--

"sss O u L"

Maka's blood ran cold, from the top of her scalp to the tips of her toes. For a split second, she tried to justify that the sound had come anywhere other than the demon in front of her -- perhaps a bird or the wind, or a particularly vocal fish. In failing to come up with anything, she did the next best thing:

She ran like crazy from the talking demon.

Her legs protested, threatening to cramp as she flew uphill, slipping and sliding as she went. She didn't dare look back to see if the creature was in pursuit. What mattered was that she maximise the space between them, so as to prevent whatever the hell "soul" meant.

It crossed her mind to look for her satchel, but in the vast wood, she would be hard-pressed to find it even in daylight. She didn't feel safe either way, but at least with it at her side she could do something, anything, to defend herself. If the failure of her rune circle was any indication, Maka needed that satchel more desperately than anything. All the while, she felt as though the speaking demon was watching her. The thought made her mind reel and her skin crawl.

Now it was late, and even the fancy farmhouse where the widow lived had gone dark. Maka was quite aware that she might have to last until at least morning before she could catch a bus home. As benevolent as the demon had acted five minutes ago.... Being an exorcist, Maka placed demons pretty low on the list of trustworthy parties to be spelunking in the woods with on nearly moonless nights.

When her legs couldn't run another step uphill, Maka fell against a tree, putting her back to it. She looked and listened, but heard no sounds of pursuit. Maybe the demon had.... Left? It didn't seem vengeful or furious, and hadn't seemed threatening, up until that uncomfortable word. It sounded like if a lizard attempted human speech.

Her hands were shaking, and as the adrenaline began to wear off, it occurred to her how close she had been to death. That first demon was ready to kill, and likely would have. Her heart sank. Her first real demon, and she had been so woefully defeated. Maka, the sole daughter of an old and powerful line of fire exorcists, had lost her satchel, messed up a rune circle, and caused potentially dangerous consequences by leaving a second demon on the loose. A second demon, reminded a little voice, that may have just saved your life.

"Stupid," she scolded herself, pressing a palm to her forehead. Her pigtails clung wet to her neck, and the wind was unpleasantly chilly. She felt something bump against her hand, and flinched, opening her eyes.

She clamped her mouth shut on a scream as she saw the demon before her, looming with its human hand outstretched. She had not heard it approach, yet here it was. Again, not attacking. Just standing. Its head silhouetted against the canopy, well over six feet above the ground -- probably closer to seven. And in its hand...

Maka gawked as she recognised the shape of her satchel, it's snapped strap hanging loosely from the demon's fist.

"You want me to have this...back?" Maka asked slowly. Was it because it didn't know that the contents could be used to banish it to another realm? Or because it knew, and wanted her trust? It was unclear. The demon held its hand out further, as if insisting she take it.

Finally deciding that she might as well get her satchel back, Maka reached up. The demon flinched at the sudden movement, though it seemed more surprised than afraid. It was, after all, towering over her, and had a sword arm, which it had just used to slice a raging demon in half. So naturally it had nothing to fear from tiny Maka, except that she was an exorcist student about to take back her satchel. As she reached for it, she breifly wondered if demons knew to fear her abilities. Demons, in general, didn't seem especially self-aware. But then again, demons in general didn't talk.... and yet, this one had.

Her hand froze as a thought crossed her mind. "My name," she said slowly, "is Maka."  
"Mm a KA" it gurgled, in that strange speech again. Her suspicions were well and truly confirmed, then. Slowly, it raised its sword arm across its chest. She pressed back a little as the blade passed harmlessly by her. "Ss o U L"  
Maka's breath caught. "That's your... name? Soul?" It made a hiss that could have been satisfied or annoyed. It was hard to tell. "Well," she continued, reaching absently for the strap while she stared down the demon's face, trying to determine its expression in the dark. "If you wouldn't mind--"

Maka's entire body seized as, in her carelessness in reaching for the strap, her hand brushed the leathery skin of the demon's hand. At first she thought it was simply the odd texture of it that caught her by surprise, but she quickly realised she really, truly, couldn't move. 

The satchel slipped out of both of their hands as a ringing sound surrounded them. It was like a blaring alarm, or a swarm of wasps, except it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was louder than anything she had ever heard, and she desperately wanted to cover her ears. The demon didn't move either, but her vision blurred and fuzzed, her eyes unable to focus, so she couldn't tell if it was frozen for sure. The spot where their knuckles touched felt both hot and cold at the same time.

It felt like hours, but it must have been only seconds before Maka's body collapsed suddenly, against any will of her own, and the last thing she felt was a sensation of weightlessness before she lost consciousness entirely.


	2. Alike, Yet Afar

Maka's whole body felt odd and heavy. That was her first conscious thought, her only observation. It felt like her skin had been peeled off, scrubbed, and put back on again, but the glue still hadn't dried. 

"Hush, dear, you're alright," sighed a gentle voice. Elderly. Safe. Slowly, Maka opened her eyes, blinking away the sleep to see the widow knelt over her with a glass of water. "You must have had a nasty fall. You're alright though, nothing a plaster and a cup of tea won't fix. Must have been hard work, sending off a demon."

Maka frowned. She lay on a futon, on the floor, like you see in old historical houses. The widow's house was modern, but when Maka had seen the interior, she noticed it had been designed very traditionally, with floor seating and frosted screens throughout. Of the limited view Maka had from the floor, that matched what she saw now; a small room with glass screens on two walls. One was open, showing a balcony with a view, allowing the sun to shine in. 

"How'd I get here?" Maka gurgled, sitting up slowly with the widow's help.   
"I found you. Lying out there, in the trees. There was a flash so bright that I saw it from all the way up here! I assume that was your handiwork. Was he a nasty fellow?" The woman pushed the water into Maka's hand gently. "Must have taken a lot out of you."  
"Yes," Maka replied wearily. She remembered the rune circle, and the wolf demon dissolving. But she knew there was something she was forgetting. "Wolf-like thing. Predatory. Most demons are more subtle, so he wasn't too hard to find." Actually, demons being more subtle was the whole reason the council had deemed the case a likely dead end in the first place. And yet, here she was.

Maka sipped her water slowly, staring absently out the open door into the valley outside. She could see the lake, though the shore where she drew her circle was out of view. The widow talked for a few sentences before Maka managed to tune in.

"Well, in any case, I'm glad you're up. I've called the number I used to get you, and they seemed very concerned about you and your friend! They said they would send someone out for you two right away. They mustn't be more than an hour out."

Maka gawked at her. For a split second, she thought the woman was referring to the wolf demon as her friend. But then her next words about someone coming for Maka and someone else seemed to fall into the groggy place in her mind where the missing details had been, and Maka scrambled to her feet. The demon. The second demon.

"Oh. Clothes, darling," stammered the woman, turning away from Maka, who was dressed only in her underwear. With increasing urgency, Maka scrambled to accept the freshly laundered pile from the woman: her clothes. A button-up blouse, a red tartan skirt, socks, and her coat. As she hastily pulled on the garments, Maka grilled the woman.

"My friend is here?" She asked urgently, her heart beating a million miles a minute.   
"Yes, nice boy. Quiet though. Is he an exorcist too?"   
"No. Yes. Um," Maka stammered, dumbfounded that the woman wasn't affronted that he was, you know, a demon. Maybe someone else had been caught up in whatever knocked Maka out? "Never mind. The exorcists -- on the phone. You told them someone else was here?"  
"Well--"  
"Show me to him."

Maka adjusted her collar and straightened her wonkily-assembled shirt buttons as they descended the fancy glass stairs. This woman's dearly departed must have been loaded. The entire lower floor was a modern open plan, and in the far corner, at a kitchen island, sat a figure. And for the briefest moment, Maka was relieved, for this person had two full, non-bladed arms and was definitely not seven feet tall. He was dressed like he'd stumbled in half-drunk from a wedding, in a slightly disheveled dress shirt and trousers. From the back, his white hair made him look like an older gentleman. 

But as they approached, he swiveled in his chair, posture still relaxed. His face was as unaged as her own, with brown eyes so warm they could have been red. And when she saw his lazy smile, sharp and subtly shark-like, she knew.

"Would you mind getting me my bag?" Maka asked the woman politely, without looking at her. "I want to be ready," she added, raising her voice, "when the other exorcists arrive."  
"Absolutely, darling. Help yourself to the oats." The widow tottered off, leaving Maka alone. With the demon.

"...You're Soul, I take it?"  
He raised an eyebrow. "Oof. And I thought this was a good enough disguise."  
"I have questions, and you have very little time to answer them before you are sent back to hell for a hundred years," she hissed, trying to be both quiet and furious at the same time.  
"How are you talking? Where is your blade arm? What did you do to me?"  
"That's so many questions," he drawled, his tone lazy. Like he didn't care. But his eyes were serious. Observant. He saw more than he pretended to. "Most of which I don't fully have the answers to."  
"Well," Maka said through her teeth, approaching the bench where he sat slowly. "You better think of some answers very quickly, because there is a lovely old lady currently fetching everything I need to banish you from this plane of existence, and I am not having a good day!"

The demon appraised her calmly for a few seconds. That his urgency didn't match hers was driving her even further into anger and near panic. 

"Ok look, what you're asking of me is like... Asking a newborn where it came from. I'm new to this. I know some stuff but it's not..." He tapped his skull "it's not here yet."  
"Convenient."  
"I'm serious. But I do know a few things, and you're going to want to hear them before your friends get here," he told her, leaning forward in his seat. "You can exorcise me if you want, but you probably don't want to, nor do you want your friends to. "  
"And why is that?" Maka huffed, unimpressed.   
"Because if you exorcise me, Maka," he told her, lifting his arm to show her an odd mark on the back of his smallest finger, "you'll go right back to hell with me."

It was on the side of the first knuckle, on his left pinkie finger. A dark, greyish circle with a single spike sticking out of it. Like a ball with a nail in it. He gestured to her right hand, hanging in a balled fist by her side, and she lifted it, inspecting her hand. Sure enough, on her own right pinkie, smack on the top of her second knuckle, she had a mark that was almost the same. Except her ball had two nails, and they were bent down at the ends. They almost looked like the letter M, with that stupid golf ball in the middle.

Maka scrubbed at the mark, but it didn't budge. Then she tried to pick at it, but there was no part of her skin's surface that felt off or a different texture. Her heart began to drum in her ears.

"How did this happen? What is this?" She whispered harshly, taking a few cautious steps closer. "What did you do to me?!?"  
"Psh. You did it to yourself," he dismissed. "And by accident! Do you seriously know how stupid it is that the first human in over a thousand years to successfully bond with a demon did it entirely by accident? Ugh. So uncool."  
"Excuse me, pardon? Bond?" Maka shook her head. "I have come from a long line of exorcists and studied at the DC Exorcism College since childhood, not to mention all the reading and research I have done on my own time, and never once have I heard of any such--"  
"Fuck. You're a nerd too?" He groaned. "Never mind. Exorcise us both. It's not a life worth living."

Maka blinked. "You're kind of an asshole," she observed.  
"Well, should have bonded with an angel then," he shrugged.  
Maka gawked. "There are--!?"  
"No," he rolled his eyes at her, throwing her a look that could wither flowers, and she shut her mouth to grimace at him.

"A bond is like a.... Well, I don't know much yet. I guess I'll know more as I get stronger, that's usually how things work with us riff-raff." He gestured between the two of them with a flick of his wrist. "Our life force is tied now. We are both stronger, but if I get sent to hell by you and your annoying little bag stuffed with cumin and lighter fluid.... well, you come to hell with me. And even worse still, if you die in the human way, so do I. Which is extremely embarrassing, and must not happen under any circumstances. "  
"Try not to die. Got it," Maka scoffed.  
"On the plus side, you get to brag about this," he gestured lazily to his own body, and for a moment, Maka's brain had to compute that before she barked with laughter.

"Haha. No. Not happening. Do you have any idea what kind of chaos this could cause if word got out!? The council would.... I don't know, what they would do, but I can't risk having you exorcised while I'm.... Attached! Worse, if word gets out about this, my life is over!" Maka clenched her fist, glaring and jabbing a finger at him. "How do we undo it?"  
"I don't even know if you can," he shrugged, returning to the mug of coffee he had been nursing, staring into it and swilling the liquid around.  
"There has to be a way!" Maka cried, growing more impatient. "I don't enjoy how casual you're being about all of this, either."  
"If there is a way to undo it, you won't find it in this guy," was his unhelpful response.

Maka groaned in frustration, hot fear and anxiety creeping up her neck. Her, Maka Albarn, top of her class and model student, heiress of a long line of fire exorcists, and now.... Demon summoner. This could ruin her. And it would... If anyone found out.

If word got out, her life would be over. And thanks to the widow who was now shuffling in with Maka's bag, someone was about to find out. The council would be on their way, arriving within the hour. She had to think of a story, fast. One that would get her by until she could fix her mistake and put everything back to the way it was.

"Okay. Here is the deal," Maka whispered quickly. "You and I are both going to be in trouble if anyone catches on. I'm going to give you a cover story and you're going to run with it if you want to live." The demon raised an eyebrow and shrugged, which she took as a yes.

"You're my personal assistant. I hired you just days ago. You're from a small exorcist family but you never got the powers associated with your blood. Your father knows my father because they met in Kenya. Did you get all that?"  
Soul blinked at her. "Your assistant? That is so uncool," he scoffed.  
"Do you get it!?" Maka repeated with a hiss, stamping her foot.   
"Jeez, fine," he conceded. As Maka turned towards the widow who had taken them in, she heard him mutter some profane words about exorcists.

"Your bag, dear," the woman smiled glowingly. "I really do appreciate what you've done for me. Truly. If you ever need anything at all, or if you're in the neighborhood for work, I put my number in the front pocket. You can even stay for free if you bring him with you," she chortled and winked, inclining her head towards Soul. Maka threw him a look like he had two heads when he winked at the woman, then plastered on a smile.   
"That's such a kind offer. I'm so glad you --"

A knock on the heavy oak door made Maka jump, her nerves already shot. She clutched her bag like a security blanket as the woman shuffled to the door. In the morning light, the three figures in the doorway were brightly silhouetted in the sun. But their white clothing was unmistakable: they were from the Exorcists' council. 

"Let me do most of the talking," she muttered to Soul under her breath, still not quite believing herself that it was a demon she was standing here, conspiring with. "Don't smile. Your teeth give you away." 

The first man stepped through the door, and Maka unclenched her fists and heaved a deep breath, before she began the best performance of her life.


	3. Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kind comments on the last chapters guys! I'll try and update weekly at least, give or take a few days. Thank you so much for reading xo

Soul was staring at Maka's tiny apartment with his arms folded, and she could hear the gear turning in his head as she unlocked the door.

"I thought you were rich," was the first thing he said, as she shuffled in the door with her shopping bags. "You wouldn't shut up about your family this, Exorcists that, and you live in a two-bedroom with the mortar falling out?"  
"Another word and you sleep outside, demon!" Maka snapped, on edge. She hadn't been able to relax for days. All she could think about was the demon she was now hiding in her house.  
"I don't sleep," he rolled his eyes and sauntered through the threshold after her. 

Maka's apartment was shabby, but it was hers. The colours were a bit eccentric, as the whole place was a victim of its 1990s construction. The sofa was comfortable and the fridge was cold, which got them by. The heating was dodgy at best though, and so Maka spent the cold months under layers upon layers of duvets. 

"You parents couldn't fork out for better than... This?" He leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her pack away her groceries. His eyes drifted to the hall, and for the most fleeting of moments, he frowned. But then it was gone, and that cool cat haze returned.  
"Just my father, actually. And, this is all I wanted. I couldn't stand..." Maka frowned at him, then tossed her head. "Doesn't matter."

He made himself at home on the old, creaky sofa, it's springs groaning in protest as he flopped his weight onto it. Maka was fully aware of him watching her as she tucked things away in their places. His entire presence put her on edge, but she forced herself to complete her tidying before finally joining him in the living room, perching on the edge of Blair's purple recliner. Her housemate was asleep a few doors down the hall, which was probably for the best. Maka wasn't quite sure how to break the news of her unexpected freeloader.

"We are in deep trouble," Maka said plainly, folding her hands in her lap. "I need to successfully smuggle you in the human world until I can get you unstuck from me. Tell me everything you know." The three hour car ride with the council agents that morning hadn't left much time for chit-chat.  
Soul blew air through his lips, throwing his arms up. "Boy, where to start? Giraffes. Those are wild. Long necks and --"  
"What are you talking about?"  
"You asked what I know."  
"I--" Maka's jaw hung open in disbelief for a moment. "I didn't mean in general!"  
Soul sat up and leaned forward, interlacing his fingers. "This is the problem with you exorcists. You don't know your enemy. First rule of demons, pigtails; always be specific when asking questions."

Maka frowned at him in silence until he groaned and slouched back again. "Fine. I don't know if there is a way to undo it. Bonding is not the sort of thing you do temporarily."  
"Why? Who would want to bond with a demon forever?" Maka frowned. "No offense."  
His molten eyes slid to meet her gaze as he scoffed. "Maka, how long have you been going to school as an exorcist? Since you were a kid, you said?" Maka nodded at him. "They haven't taught you shit about demons."  
Maka bristled. "Hey! I won't let you disregard years of education--"  
"Look brainiac, I get it. You're smart. So use that brain to think critically for a second."

Soul stood up from the sofa and put his hands in his pockets, squaring his gaze on her. "Exorcists are united under a single council, yes?"  
"Yes," Maka muttered, still annoyed.  
"And they govern your society parellel to human society. They run your jobs and your healthcare and your education."  
"Yes."  
"And how many exorcist schools are there?" He leaned against the cold fireplace, his crinkled dress shirt scraping dryly on the brickwork.  
"There are many campuses around the world in the Council's schooling program."  
"But it's just one schooling program? All campuses follow the same curriculum, teach the same stuff, share the same information, all provided by your council? If you wanted an education from any other source, would you find that accessible?"

A nagging thought began to tickle Maka's mind. She sensed right away where he was going with this, but her first reflex was to defend. "What are you trying to say?"  
"What I'm trying to say is, you won't shut the hell up about how smart and good in school you are for the entire goddamn shopping trip just now, yet you had no idea that demon bonding existed. Which leaves me with two possible conclusions:"  
"Soul, I think--"  
"One: you were lying. I judge this to be unlikely because liars have better taste in footwear. Two: you're telling the truth, yet somehow information on bonding has been so scarce that even a lame book jockey like yourself has never come across it."

Maka gripped the arms of her armchair, glaring at him. Her mind folded over the perspective she had just been offered, but she struggled to reconcile with it. "Maybe it was just lost?"  
"Maka, it wasn't lost. I think someone is keeping it from you."

For centuries, the exorcists had upheld the balance between earth and hell. Surely if such information was being kept hidden, it was for a reason? But what reason could there be?

"Why? If you're right, this must have been covered up for... Centuries. At least. Why? Is this dangerous? What we're doing, I mean?"  
Soul sighed faintly. "Yes and no. Exorcists can channel demons. You have a flow with my kind. I'm not sure, but I don't think this can happen with just anyone. It's like being an organ donor or some shit. Certain people can't receive organs from certain others. Some can't donate at all. You get it."  
"I really don't."

Soul picked up a fire poker and, quite unceremoniously, slammed it down as hard as he could into his foot. Maka was horrified as she watched it happen, but was quickly distracted by a sudden, sharp ache in her own foot, like an old bruise had been poked. 

"Feel that? You feel what I feel," he informed her.  
"You didn't jab all that hard," Maka observed.  
"I did. You just didn't feel much because my skin is tougher than yours," he shrugged. "But, every time you get hurt, I feel it twice as badly as normal, because... I dunno, you're squishier than me. Anything you feel, I feel, and the other way around."  
Maka drummed her fingers on her arm. "What about this?"  
"Ok, not everything. Just intense pain, sickness, stuff like that. You get the picture." Soul sat back down. "Point is, to forge this kind of magical connection, it takes a kind of.... Cling between our souls." He frowned and shook his head. "No, not cling. It's like... What's the word? Synchronization? Compatibility? Echo? Harmony?"  
"Resonance?" Maka suggested dryly.  
Soul looked at her for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face. His mouth hung open slightly, seemingly in awe. Then he shrugged.  
"Nah, that's dumb. Let's just go with jelly. Like a sandwich. We're all bread. Some of us have jelly, but it's not the same as other people's jelly. You want the jelly to be the same flavor, or flavors that go together. Your bread won't stick with someone else's bread unless they have the right jelly. Some people don't have any jelly at all," he explained, picking up a coaster to place it on the glass coffee table. 

"Say the place you call 'hell' is here," he tells her, waving his hand above the glass, "and the human world is down here," he added, waving his hand under the glass.  
"Wait," Maka chimed in, though she was listening intently. "Why is hell on top?"  
"To demons, this world is what's below," he shrugged. "Typical Earther. Anyway. Imagine trying to put your jelly sandwich together, but one piece is above the glass and one is below it. They don't stick together. You can't do it. But you really really want a sandwich. You need to make a hole in the glass so you can put the bread together." He tapped the coaster. "This is the hole. Only exorcists and very, very, very ancient, powerful demons can make these. This is what you did last night. You wanted a sandwich, and you accidentally made one."

"Whoa, just a minute," Maka sat up, alert. "I didn't want a sandwich, or whatever your stupid thing means. I wanted the opposite. I wanted to send the other demon back across the glass!"  
Soul groaned. "No no. That demon wasn't your bread. That guy was some other shitty piece of bread. I'm the real bread. We have the same jelly," He gestured between them. "Which is how you made the sandwich. Get it?"  
"I'm just hungry now," she sighed. "I understand the analogy, but I don't get the hungry part. I didn't want to summon a demon. I wasn't 'hungry'."

"Hungry isn't conscious, kid, it's like... More of a need. You lost your fanny pack--"  
"Satchel."  
"-- and you were about to be mauled by a rabid demon. You were freaking out. And when a person that has jelly on the human side of the glass has a strong emotion like that, demons float to the glass and respond, to try and make sandwiches. By a stroke of stupid, ridiculous luck, you miswrote your circle just right and let the demon behind the glass through. That demon just happened to match your jelly and save your sorry ass. And now," he held up his hands. "Here we are."

Make chewed the information he'd given her for a good few moments. This was.... So unheard of, it bordered on ridiculous. But her disbelief had already began to crack at the seams the moment she bonded with a demon -- something that wasn't supposed to exist. If exorcists didn't know about this, what else didn't they know about demons? Maka had a rare opportunity here, to have a real, in-the-flesh conversation with a real demon.

"So it was purely luck that the demon I let through was able to bond with me?" Maka asked, tilting her head.  
"No. A demon is called to the glass when a compatible human bread piece calls it with their emotion. So if a human gets emotional but no demons come, it means they have no jelly. Which is fine, most don't. Many exorcists don't even have jelly. I cannot stress enough how fucking lucky you are to still be alive and on this plane." Soul chuckled. "One rune in difference, and you might have been sucked back to hell -- or you might not have had the jelly to draw a bonded demon, and nothing would have happened and that other guy would have eaten you." He acted like that was an amusing concept.  
"So the demons we exorcise," Maka began, speaking her thought as it bloomed in her mind, "they are brought up by peoples emotions?"

"Bingo. Man, I did not expect to be teaching a damn lesson today," he muttered, then rolled his eyes at her glare. "Fine. Imagine starving and there is this glass barrier between your bread, but you don't have a way to make a portal, or you don't know how, or you cant. Now the bread wants to be a whole sandwich really badly but this barrier is in the way. So the bread on one side starts to press against the glass, and all the jelly leaks everywhere and the bread gets squished and it's no longer the half of the sandwich you wanted. When that happens, the demon becomes a corrupted echo that terrorises the surface world. And then you throw burning lettuce at it until it pisses off back to hell."

Maka stood up and crossed to the kitchen, her mind reeling. How could this all be news? Exorcists had been practicing for thousands of years, there was no way they had just... Missed all of this.

"How do I know you're telling me the truth? For all I know you're just corrupting me or something! Maybe you know how to undo our bond and you're just screwing with me," Maka pointed out.  
"You don't. But you're gonna have to trust me, if you want to live long enough to find a way to unbind us. I still very much need you to stay alive, so that I can stay alive." He chuckled. "Plus it's kinda cool to be the first bonded demon in a thousand years. If you die on me it's gonna make me look bad."  
"Very funny."

Maka sighed. She would have to investigate the validity of his claims, and it wouldn't be easy. If what he said was true, this knowledge wasn't just lost down the back of a library shelf or between the sofa cushions. It was buried very deep. And there were potentially people out there who didn't want Maka to get the shovel.

"I'll do some research," she told him. "At school. In the meantime, you don't leave this apartment. You stay here, you watch wheel of fortune, and you behave. Understand?"  
"Why can't I leave?" He grumbled.  
"Well your other option is to come to the library--"  
"Never mind. I'll take Wheel of Fortune."

Maka nodded, satisfied. She picked up her satchel off the kitchen counter, already planning what sections at the library she would start with, when she saw Soul throw a hand up into the air above his head, while he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. She stared for a moment, before it dawned on her that he might be trying to ask a question.

"...yes?" She called, raising her eyebrows.  
"Yeah, quick question," he replied. "What's wheel of fortune?"

Maka sighed. This was going to be a long week. She could sense it as well as she had sensed the fire poker to the foot earlier. And it would all likely end horribly, but there really wasn't any other choice. She was stuck with this.

Soul had his hand up again. "What?" Maka groaned, once again pulled from her thoughts.  
"I kinda feel like a sandwich now."  
Maka immediately bristled. "You don't look like a sandwich."  
"Makaaaaaa--"  
"If you want food, make it yourself," she called, raising her chin. She'd dealt with her childish father all her life, and she wasn't about to let Soul act like her personal charity case. 

Soul heaved himself off the sofa and plodded to the kitchen. He began rifling through all the wrong cabinets, but Maka left him to his own devices to pull on her shoes. It was a weekend, but the school library was open to students 24 hours a day. Maka had a bad feeling that she was diving into deeper water than she knew. Her gaze drifted back to Soul, wondering what he had gotten her into.

Soul, the demon, rifling through her kitchen with an infuriating slouch. Systematically opening and sniffing every condiment in the fridge. Still dressed in his crumpled semi-formalwear. Looking at him like this, it was hard to believe he had the strength to rip her head from her shoulders. She needed to keep her wits about her, and remember he was still dangerous, and that he knew she had to take his word for everything he told her about demons, and their bond. As always, Maka's best defence was knowledge. 

"Remember," she told him. "Don't leave the house. And don't go poking around. My housemate works late and sleeps a lot, I don't want you bothering her." Maka pointed to the remote on the coffee table. "The red button turns the TV on, the numbers change the channel. Behave," she fixed him with a stern glare.  
Soul rolled his eyes as he unfolded the paper from a block of cheese. "Don't go outside, don't read your diary, watch TV until you get back. Anything else, your highness?" He pointedly kept his gaze on the task as he investigated the cheese closely.  
Maka narrowed her eyes, staring for a few moments as he kept his attention squarely on his fridge raid. Finally, she sighed and pulled the door, the cool breeze from outside wafting in. "I'll be back in a few hours." 

Soul didn't respond as she closed the door behind her, apparently more interested in an unmarked jar than her. But just before the door closed, she thought she saw him begin to look up.


	4. Demonology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another exposition-heavy, info-dumpy chapter! In the next chapters we will get into the meat a little bit more. Thanks for reading xo

The library wasn't empty when Maka arrived. A few students milled about, and under normal circumstances, Maka would have been completely comfortable with the lack of people. But these were not normal circumstances; Maka found herself folding her hands whenever she passed someone, irrationality afraid that the odd mark on her knuckle would give away that something was amiss.

She tried her best to force down her fear and focus on the task at hand: information. She made a beeline for the sections on runes first, since that was how she had first summoned Soul. On her arm, she began with books on the deconstruction and meanings of the runes used in exorcisms. When they were stacked so high she could barely hold them any longer, she found a table and began reading, opening a notebook just in case.

It took her a good three hours to get through that first stack, using indexes to hunt down relevant information. Pages and pages of her notebook were full of scribbles and notes, but while she still didn't know where she had gone wrong with her circle, she felt she had a refreshed understanding of runes, which was always nice. Maybe if she had bothered with this kind of free-time study in the first place, she wouldn't be in this mess. She took her pencil and scribbled 'read more!!!' at the top of her page. Then, she gathered up her books and took them back, ready to move onto the next section: the history of rune exorcisms.

She returned to the table with three tomes: _A Brief History of Rune Circles_ ; _Rune Circles and Exorcism in History_ ; _The Pioneers of Rune Exorcism_. Most of it was common history, taught in early schooling years -- for exorcists, at least.

She already knew that rune exorcisms and tag exorcisms were heavily debated as to which was the oldest art. Rune exorcists argue often that the tag method (writing on a tag and sticking the tag on the demon to banish it) required the invention of paper, whereas runes did not. Tag exorcists usually rebutted with demonstrations of the tag method using pieces of rock or slate. It was ongoing, to say the least.

She also already knew about the period in the 14th century when rune exorcists tried to separate from the Exorcist society and make their own branch, resulting in a decade-long civil war that cemented their existence in the folklore of regular humans, and brought forth a fresh wave of imitation humans. And she knew of the incident eight years later, where the rune exorcists staged a coup and took primary leadership of the Exorcist council for four years before a balanced board of leaders was restored.

That's not to say that there was nothing there for Maka to learn: in _The Pioneers of Rune Exorcism_ , she learned of an 18th century rune exorcist named Chiro Cascade, who spent her years studying demons and their habits. In rare cases, she took as long as months or years to study her subjects before finally exorcising them. What Soul had said about the behaviour of demons, coming to the surface due to a strong emotional pull from a compatible human, rose to the surface of her mind. Perhaps Chiro Cascade could help corroborate that information.

With this newfound lead after what was now five hours of reading, Maka scribbled the name excitedly and hurried to the library index, a hand-maintained system of names and subjects, and the books in which they were mentioned. Students were encouraged to point out missing information, a courtesy Maka often found herself indulging in. Right now though, her fingers flipped along drawers and drawers of alphabetically sorted names until she got to c-a-s, where she found a faded, ratty card with Cascade, Chiro written on it.

Maka's heart leapt as she pulled it out, her eyes skimming the titles listed. The book she had found Chiro in was obviously there, but there were only two other books listed. Maka wrote them down and searched.

The first was a dead end -- the book didn't go into detail about Chiro's work. It only mentioned her in passing as the sister of Miria Cascade, an exorcist famous for her rare, deep proficiency in all three common methods of exorcism, as well as her marriage to a Russian Prince.

The second, curiously, was nowhere to be found. Maka searched high and low, and even went through a librarian's trolley full of returned books, but it was nowhere to be found. She got down on the floor and looked under the shelves where it was supposed to be. She even manually strolled the aisles, hoping she might stumble across it. Nothing.

Finally, she took the book title to the librarian. She wasn't the usual bug-eyed old woman, the one who kept a jar of candy behind the counter and liked to arrange her pencils by length. This was the weekend librarian, an ex-alimni and a daughter of one of the teachers, who took the weekend work for some extra cash but didn't take it very seriously.

"I need to find a book," Maka announced, jumping straight to the point.  
The librarian swivelled in her chair to wake up the old, crackly desktop behind the desk. "What's the title?"  
" _Demonology: The Observations of C. Cascade._ "  
The librarian threw her an odd glance, then began typing swiftly. Her long fingers drummed on the mouse as she waited, then she squinted at the screen. "It's not here."  
"Oh," Maka paused. "Well, that explains why I couldn't find it. Is it on loan to someone?"  
The librarian furrowed her brow at the screen for a moment. "Nup. According to the record it's been withdrawn from student access since... '94."  
"Since 1994?" Maka gasped, incredulous.  
"No, since _1894._ It's only accessible to faculty. Sorry, kid. Come back when you're a teacher," the librarian shrugged, then swivelled her chair away again, signifying she was done with the conversation.

With her fleeting elation at a possible lead shot down, Maka plodded away from the desk, suddenly aware of how strained her eyes felt. She had been gone for hours, and had almost forgotten entirely about Soul. He'd probably burned her house down by now. With no other options, Maka selected a few books on demons and borrowed them out to read at home.

Maka made her way to the bus station, and twenty-five minutes later, she was home. At least the place was still standing. She climbed the short flight of steps to the door and opened it, finding the place noisier than she was expecting. With horror, Maka found Blair and Soul on the sofa, laughing uproariously while watching wipeout.

As she stood in the doorway, taken aback and terrified that Blair might somehow guess Soul wasn't human, Soul stopped laughing and turned in his seat to point at her. "You said you would be a few hours!" Blair lazily swung her head around to nod hello to Maka.  
"I--" Maka forced herself to calm down. Blair had no reason to suspect Soul was anything other than an odd house guest. "I was a few hours."  
"More than a few," he scoffed. "Come watch this stupid show with us."  
Maka closed the door and took off her coat. "I actually have some reading to do on that project I was telling you about," she called, throwing him a pointed glare.

Blair got up gracefully from the sofa, gliding across the room in the catlike fashion she seemed to carry herself with. "Maka, you have to tell me when you have houseguests," she scolded playfully. "I nearly gave him a death of a fright."  
Maka didn't miss how the demon on the sofa was watching her busty housemate, with a look on his face like she held the answer to every question he had ever asked. As if Maka didn't already have enough problems. "Sorry, Blair. It came up really suddenly. He's a family friend. Lost his house in uh.... Fire," she lived quickly, thinking on the spot. "Papa hired him as an assistant to help me study through my last year of school, so he might be around here for a while. Is it okay if he crashes on the sofa?"

Blair seemed apprehensive, but she didn't dwell too long on that, diverting her attention to finding the drinking chocolate. "Seems fine to me, but if I have people over he'll have to sleep on your floor or something."  
Maka forced a smile. "Great, thank you!" Then she turned to Soul. "Speaking of, assistant," she said with purpose, "I have these books to go through if you want to help me out?"  
Soul looked entirely unimpressed by the concept, but when he opened his mouth to protest, she glared, and he slumped. "Sure," he responded with a very palpable lack of enthusiasm.

He followed her down the hall. The first door on the right, which was noticeably fragrant, was Blair's. Across from that was the bathroom. At the end of the short hall were two rooms -- to the left, a small study that Blair kept mostly junk in, and at the very end, a door that led to Maka's room. She glanced behind her to make sure Blair was still happily consumed with her hot-chocolate making, then quickly ushered Soul into her room, shutting the door behind them.

"Right," Maka said, careful to keep her voice down. Blair was only a non-practicing Exorcist, but she would know exactly what was up if Maka openly talked about Soul being a demon. Blair might not be the type to rat people out, but even then, Maka didn't want to bring anyone else in as an accomplice if she could help it. "I didn't find much, but I might have somewhere to start."

Maka booted up her laptop and flopped into her desk chair, pretending not to keep an eye on Soul as he did a bad job of pretending not to snoop. "What'd you dig up?"  
"A demonologist from centuries ago. She studied demons extensively before exorcising them, but the only concrete record of her findings was redacted from student access and restricted to faculty only," Maka explained. "So my next best option is to google her and hope we get something."  
"Mmhm," Soul hummed, making it apparent he was only half listening. Maka glanced at him as she waited for her browser to boot up, and she noticed something odd: he looked tired.

"I thought you said you don't sleep." She swivelled in her seat slightly. "You look tired." Though, she also felt a bit sleepy, and it wasn't even dark yet. Maybe she was projecting.  
"Must be the lighting in this nerd dungeon," he replied defensively, turning away, and she got a feeling that he was dodging the subject.

Before she could pry further, she remembered her task at hand, and quickly Googled the name she was after. Results flooded the screen, but Maka deflated as she read them.

"What's up?" Asked Soul, moving to look over her shoulder.  
"Nothing. At all," she sighed as she scrolled. "None of these results are relevant."  
"Hm. Alright. Try searching for demonology then."  
Maka barked with laughter. "Are you kidding? We'd be reading garbage written by spiritually delusional humans for the next ten years before we find something useful."  
"Maybe, but you don't have much else to go on."

Maka sighed, then got up out of her seat. "Fine. You do it, then. In the meantime, I'll stick to the stuff written by the experts."  
"Fine," shrugged Soul taking her place in the seat.  
"Fine," Maka responded, picking up her book bag and flopping on the bed. "Tell me if you find anything interesting."

Maka opened the first book and got her notepad out, tuckering down for a good, long while of reading while Soul ignored his task entirely and played pinball on her laptop instead.

 


	5. No Rest For The Wicked

The strangest thing about humans was sleep. The first time Soul saw Maka do it, it kind of freaked him out.

It was just over a week after she first brought him to her tiny home. They often studied fruitlessly in her bedroom, steering clear of the common area in the evenings, when Blair often had company. Soul had been playing the Pinball game on her computer, and more time had elapsed than he had thought. He had asked Maka over his shoulder if she had found anything useful yet (unlikely, given their success rate thus far,) but she didn't respond. She was asleep, her book toppled gently to rest over her nose.

She had just... powered down, becoming almost entirely unresponsive. He'd never seen anything like it before. The demon realm -- hell, as she called it -- was not nearly as heavy as Earth. Here, it always felt like something weighed on one's spirit. Not necessarily in a bad way -- more like a heavy blanket. He supposed closing one's eyes might be a nice reprieve from it. She looked so calm, he was almost jealous. And then, there was also the temptation to clap and startle her out of her weird human stasis. But if she was sleeping, she wasn't annoying him. So he let her be, and used the time to play more pinball.

When she woke, the dawn was a hint of purple glow outside her window. He heard her wake because her breathing changed. She sat up with a start, her book toppling off her chest.

"I fell asleep," she gurgled, less of a question and more of a statement. "I lost my page," she added, flipping through the book and squinting. "What time is it?"  
"Uh...." Soul didn't exactly want to tear his eyes from the game, but he could feel her expectant gaze on the back of his neck. He supposed he'd played enough anyway. "Five."

Maka rolled off her mattress, kicking the sheet away, and a wave of her scent hit him. She smelled of herbs, wildflowers and wood smoke, presumably as a result of her craft. It was overwhelming, and somewhat dizzying. She always came home from school smelling of it, the smoke clinging to her hair. Maybe the smell was so distracting because it was meant to placate demons, and that was why he had been feeling so lousy lately.

Maka had noticed almost immediately that he looked worse after just one day in the human realm, but she hadn't pushed it much since. It was frustrating to Soul that he didn't know why. Demon knowledge was mostly earned with time. In a few weeks or a few centuries, he might have some epiphanous insight into his odd sluggishness and solve the mystery. Even though he didn't know the cause, eventually something would trigger the answer as if he had known it all along. This was twice as annoying because Maka never stopped asking questions he didn't know the answer to.

"I'm going to have a shower," she grumbled, plodding into the hall and disappearing. Soul watched her go. Another thing he didn't get: sweat. Humans were like weird slugs, always sweating and covering themselves in their own grime just to wash it all off again. Maka would go to school clean and come home smelling just.... Stronger. She seemed to hate this, even though Soul couldn't see much of a fundamental difference. Either way, she reeked of human. It's just that after school, she reeked of other humans as well as herself.

Which reminded him. Today was Monday. Maka would be going to her stupid school again, leaving him to fuck around watching the walls in the apartment. If someone had told him a week ago that he would eventually grow sick of having only Blair to talk to, he would have laughed in their face. But even her... endowed charm was wearing off, and he had taken to watching the street from various windows in the house.

"Hey! Did you hear me?" Maka shook Soul from his daze of staring out her window. She now smelled of soap and water. "I said get out, I need to get ready for school." Soul made a show of pulling a face at her as he slinked out of the room. She shut the door behind him without acknowledging it.

Soul stared at the door, a thought occurring to him. They had been stuck at a dead end for a week now, unable to continue research into Chiro Cascade because the book was restricted to faculty. Maka said they had a special archive room that could only be opened by a faculty pass. It seemed so simple, he had no idea how he hadn't thought of it before.

When Maka opened the door again, Soul was waiting. Unfortunately, his looming shape in the threshold startled her and she screamed, stumbling backwards. Soul caught her easily by the wrist, without really thinking about it. He pulled her to her feet and strode in, taking a seat in her desk chair.

"Did I say you could come in?" Maka muttered, rubbing her wrist.   
"You need to steal a pass from one of your teachers," Soul announced smugly.  
"I need to what?!" Maka's mouth hung open in disbelief. "Do you know who you're talking to? I've never stolen anything in my life. Not even a ten cent sauce sachet."  
"It's the only way you'll get your book," Soul pointed out. "Nobody will even notice it's missing because you're the only person on hell or earth who gives a shit about where books are."  
"No," Maka shook her head, wet hair flicking. "Absolutely not."  
Soul threw her an exhasperated look. He was getting good at those, because it was the look Maka gave him when she got home and he had eaten all the cereal again. "No risk, no reward, my impedingly fragile friend. Just take it off a desk or whatever."  
"Teachers wear their cards around their necks, Soul. There is no way."  
"Well then find a way to get one off a neck. I can sever a few heads if you want?"

He tried his best to contain his glee when she took the bait and flustered. "No! What the hell Soul, no!" She frowned at him as he laughed. "I know you're just messing with me, but I'm serious. Do not kill any humans under any circumstances."  
Soul frowned. "What if they're attacking you?"  
Maka blinked, taken aback. "Why would a human attack me?"  
"Pretty sure attacking each other is about as consistent as agriculture across human society. Why wouldn't a human attack you?"

Maka flatly disregarded his questioning and began sorting her books into her bag. He watched her, perplexed. Finally, another idea popped into his head. "Take me with you and I'll steal it."

The look on her face was scathing, like she thought he had gone entirely insane and it was actively ruining her life. Which, to be fair, wasn't a long way from the truth, but still.

"You've been wearing my pajamas for a week," she pointed out. "You can't come to school like that."  
"I'll change into those clothes I came in," he shrugged. "Just pass me off as your assistant again or whatever. Then all we need to do is make a plan to distract someone and steal a pass."  
"It's not that easy! Most teachers wear their passes. Plus, what of someone... I don't know, sniffs you out? They'll hurt you." Her concern would have been touching, if his wellbeing wasn't inherently tied to her own.   
"Maka, if you could smell the demon on me like I can smell the human on you, maybe I'd be worried. As it stands, I think we'll get away with it," he assured her, then added with a dry laugh, "Unless you know of any other demons floating around your school." 

Maka crossed her arms and stared him down for a very long moment, her eyes narrowed. Oh, to know what went on in that pigtailed head of hers. Finally she sighed and slid the closet open, tossing him a hanger with his shirt on it, followed by the dress pants. "Fine," she tossed her head and walked out to the hall, taking her backpack with her.

Soul got dressed quickly, trying to ignore the very strong Maka smell his shirt had from her closet. At least humans couldn't smell well enough to notice, even though it was obvious to Soul. For some reason, the thought of someone smelling Maka on him gave him an odd feeling that wasn't strictly positive or negative. It was just odd and somewhat uncomfortable. Foreign.

"After school, we're going shopping," she told him matter-of-factly, messing with the folds in her plaid skirt, almost as if she was actively avoiding eye contact. "It seems clear that you're going to be here longer than either of us expected, so. I guess we need to buy you clothes."  
"I thought you were eager to get rid of me," he almost sang, allowing his teeth to flash.   
"Oh, I am. But I can't be seen walking around town with someone who looks like he escaped from a mortuary. It's embarassing."

He let her have that one, and they made their way to her school.

The first thing he noticed about it was the smell. He thought Maka's burning scent was strong -- this whole place reeked. Of burning herbs, yes, but also of tag exorcists' ink and rune exorcists' chalk and... Something else. Something he couldn't place. Even before the massive, wrought iron gates loomed as they rounded the corner after the bus stop, he nearly stumbled in the initial wave of all the scents combined. Luckily, as he had found with Maka, he slowly got used to it. As long as nobody aimed their hocus pocus at him, he'd be fine. Probably. Maybe Maka was right and this was a terrible idea, because Soul had never felt so small as he did when he walked through those gates.

Despite himself, he walked a little closer to Maka. It made no sense: she was small, fragile, mortal. He didn't know everything about their bond, of course, but for the whole week he had thought of it as a shelter, something humans did to shield themselves. To have someone else to take the hits. A tiny part of him had tried to resent her for it, and he'd felt a little better about pushing her buttons all the time because he'd have to be there and solve her problems for her. But... Maybe that wasn't right, exactly.

Realistically, what problems had he solved? He'd banished one demon. She had housed him, hidden him, and not said a word as he had played computer games instead of helping her read her stupid books and solve their problem. He had the feeling that all those calls she had thought she was discreetly declining on the bus were from her father, with whom she had a relationship so difficult that Soul had guessed the turmoil from how harshly she avoided the topic. But she had begged for money from him anyway, to buy Soul clothes this afternoon.

In his distraction, he accidentally stepped on the back of her shoe. She glared over her shoulder and hissed "what are you doing?"  
Soul shoved his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat. "This place reeks of human. And it's huge."  
Her expression softened. "Didn't I tell you this was a bad idea?"  
She had, but despite the smell, he felt better than he had all week. The blanket weight he had felt was lifted significantly, and he wondered if demons were susceptible to cabin fever. "You seem to tell me a lot of things, Maka Albarn," he responded vaguely, avoiding the question.

She looked troubled, and he was afraid she would make him go home. Or... Back to her apartment. No point calling it home, because if they pulled this off he'd be back behind the glass soon. Where it was comfortable and things made sense, where nothing smelled of human. Where he didn't feel the need to hide behind human girls, or throw them into bushes when loud cars passed too close to the curb (there had been an incident on the way to the bus stop that he didn't care to recount, even in the privacy of his own head.)

"Hurry up," he quickly urged her, walking faster. "I wanna see if your classmates have the same stick up their ass as you do."  
Maka stopped walking and gaped at him. "That is so rude!"

He smiled to himself as she muttered angrily and followed him, her footsteps clacking quickly to catch up with his easier pace. He kept his smile on even as they entered the den of wolves, where he felt as though the walls themselves watched him. Watched _them._

 


	6. Buried Treasure

"I'm just saying, would anyone even notice if I chopped off one measly head? We've been sitting here for twenty minutes."

Maka did her very darn best not to wack Soul in the arm. She knew by now that he was only riling her up out of boredom, but she had enough problems without him adding to her stress. They had, indeed, been perched on a bench with library books for all of Maka's free period so far, after three unsuccessful attempts to part her morning's teachers with their badges.

The first time she had "accidentally" spilled coffee on her Latin professor, but he had simply put his key card straight into his wallet and given her a furious look that might have melted steel. The second attempt to tell her herbalism professor that she had a spider on her lanyard had been equally fruitless, since she just put it back on once the imaginary creepy crawler had disappeared. The last attempt technically counted, but it was Maka who foiled it, pinching her own arm as she spotted Soul across the hall, about to try and snatch one off the vice principal. He'd flinched from the sting, and they exchanged a series of silent, angry looks before he finally backed off.

She had also attended a fourth class, her fire exorcism training, but Soul had been unable to stomach being in the room because all the smoke affected him badly. So Maka had made an excuse to send her "assistant" to the library and no attempt on that professor's badge had been made.

Now they were camping down the hall from the resource room they needed to be in. Soul was tapping his feet to a beat she couldn't hear. Maka was watching the door carefully. Any moment now someone might come down the hall and open the door. She had no idea what she would do when that happened, but the thought of that book being just steps away was driving her nuts.

It was this rare, comfortable peace between them that was shattered by what could only be a scooter clunking down the hall.

"What is UP," called a familiar voice. BlackStar, the school's most obnoxious tag exorcist. He kept a belt with holsters for writing utensils, as if at any moment a demon might jump out of the shadows. Which was funny to Maka suddenly, given who was sitting next to her. As far as she knew, BlackStar had never even been on an assignment, let alone exorcised an actual demon. But he liked to make a show of being prepared. As he approached, Maka noticed the clear wheels of his scooter flashed a rainbow of colored lights.

Right now, he rolled up to Maka and Soul's bench, adding an unnecessary slide as he stopped, pitching his scooter sideways to have it skid to a stop. "Hi. BlackStar. Maybe you've heard of me." He nodded his chin at Soul then turned his attention to Maka. "I have heard nothing except chatter about Maka Albarn's new assistant all day." Then, with all the subtlety of a legless giraffe careening down a hill in a shopping cart , BlackStar leaned over towards Maka and whispered very loudly, "what's with the hair? Is he fourteen or forty?"  
"I was born outside the temporal plane and have no age," Soul deadpanned.  
Maka looked at Soul wide-eyed, then heavily forced a laugh, clapping Soul's arm appreciatively. "He's a riot. You'd love him," Maka talked him up generously, her heart racing in her ears and her cheeks burning with nervousness. BlackStar could be a problem. He hated threats to his imaginary spotlight, so her safest bet to stop him from asking questions was to turn the conversation back to his favorite topic: BlackStar.

"Actually, I was just telling Soul here about how one of the faculty here raised you," Maka beamed, her eyes sliding back towards the archive room door. "I bet you could tell it better than I can, though."  
"And you'd be correct," BlackStar made a show of dismounting the scooter, despite it sitting a mere two inches off the ground. He launched into the tragic tale that Maka had heard many times -- none of them on purpose.

It was only about three minutes worth of tuning out BlackStar's voice, before a teacher came along, card at the ready. Maka shot up in her seat, watching as he veered off to the side of the hallway, right towards the door. Maka very quickly had to think of a distraction. Her eyes fell on BlackStar, and a light turned on in her brain. Interrupting BlackStar mid sentence, Maka pointed and half-yelled "Uhhhh I bet you can't steal that teacher's glasses off his head!" She blurted. Beside her thighs, she crossed her fingers, praying it would work.

BlackStar blinked at her for a few seconds, following her gaze. Then, just as she predicted, he scoffed. "Seriously? I could do this in my sleep," bragged BlackStar, before kicking off and zooming towards to door on his flashing scooter.

"Is that gonna work?" Soul asked carefully, trying not to make too much noise. "He just.... Does shit like this? You didn't even give him any incentive, he just...." Soul raised his eyebrows and shook his head, apparently deciding to drop the line of thought.  
"Just get ready to go," Maka whispered, leaning forward with anticipation. This was their only chance. Well, until another teacher came along, but who knows how long that would be! .

The teacher tapped his card on the reader just as Blackstar swooped past and snatched the reading glasses off his bald head. The teacher cried out in alarm and took off after the shock of blue hair that was already disappearing around the corner on his obnoxious steed.

Maka jumped up and ran for the ajar door, knowing the door would have a timer before it locked again. Luckily, as she collided with the handle, it gave, and she stumbled into the teachers' archive room with a massive grin on her face.

"This is the craziest thing I've ever done!" She turned to Soul, closing the door after him as he followed her into the archive room. The feeling was giddiness, mixed with wanting to throw up. "We have to move quickly because if we get caught I might actually go into cardiac arrest."  
Soul gave her a look that usually meant 'typical human' and began to scan the shelves.

The faculty archive room wasn't actually all that big. There were shelves on all four walls and three short aisles in the middle. She could probably make it to the back wall from the door in about ten paces or less. In each of the four corners stood a cabinet with its door at 45° from the wall, bridging the gap between the wall shelves to make use of the space.

It seemed smaller than she was expecting, but Maka supposed that there wasn't a lot kept in there really. Not many books would be here because they were restricted. It was mostly teacher copies of textbooks, many of which Maka recognised. There were also classroom resources that were too valuable to loan out to students, as Maka noticed one of the corner cabinets labelled "biology cross-sections", and another titled "maps." One cabinet had no door and was full of shelves with fire Exorcism supplies sorted into labelled food containers.

"Where are you, Chiro?" Maka muttered to herself, strolling the first aisle. The sections were sorted first by subject, then year level, and then author name. Her eyes scanned the shelves for anything labelled "demonology" even though that wasn't a class subject. Soul followed her silently with his hands in his pockets, his eyes drifting around the shelves aimlessly. She was tempted to tell him to help look, but she would only go over the sections he searched anyway, so she saved herself the trouble of twisting his arm. At least he seemed to be vaguely following her eye, and with any luck, he would hopefully spot something if she missed it the first time.

"There's no demonology section," she sighed in frustration, after three quick laps of the room confirmed this. Then she scanned the sections for all three kinds of exorcism, with no further luck. She moved to the back corner by the cross-sections cabinet, where the biology shelves were. "Maybe here?"  
This was when Soul stiffened beside her, catching her sleeve and distracting her from her concentration. He was frowning, his head tilted. She had just started to ask what his deal was, when his head turned towards the door so fast that it should have caused whiplash. "The teacher is back."

In her determination to hunt down Chiro Cascade's book, Maka had forgotten that the teacher BlackStar had stolen spectacles from had still needed to get into the records room. She heard footsteps approach the door. Quickly, she glanced around. With the gaps under the aisles too low to fit under, there was only one real option for a hiding place. She flung the cabinet beside them open and pushed Soul into it, cramming herself in after and pulling the door shut just as she heard the key card reader beep.

The cabinet was claustric and awkward to fit into. She felt poster tubes pushing into her ribs, and she was dangerously off-balance due to the way the tubes were lying in the cabinet, restricting her foot space. She had to bend awkwardly towards the back of the cabinet, to prevent herself from toppling out the door again. And of course there was Soul, hunched into the opposite side of the cabinet. Which was really a generous way of putting it, because the cabinet was so small it seemed almost ridiculous to suggest there were sides at all. From the inside it was more like a square, with a diagonal cut out of one corner, which was where the door was.

Her hands were pressed to either wall on the inside; one beside her, and the other arm wedged by Soul's side. She moved her face forward and headbutted his raised elbow by accident, and had to resist the urge to mutter a curse, lest the teacher hear them. Soul's upper calf was sandwiched between her knees, but she couldn't move her legs back due to the poster tubes behind her. At one point, she nearly did topple out, but her face hit his arm, which was apparently stretched between her head and the door. This whole situation might have been really embarrassing, if she wasn't preoccupied with how dead she would be if they were caught snooping in a teachers only archive.

"Maybe literally dead, if someone really is trying to hide the information you're looking for," said a little voice in Maka's head, and she shooed it away. There was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of exorcist society entirely forgetting how to summon and bond demons. Probably.

After what seemed like hours of listening and praying, she heard the heavy 'clunk-click' of the door closing. "Is he gone?" Maka breathed, hesitant to leave before Soul confirmed there was nobody in the room outside.  
"Hm?" She felt Soul jolt ever so slightly, as if he'd been woken from a nap. Which was impossible, she knew, since he said demons don't sleep. Plus, who could fall asleep while crouching awkwardly in a cabinet? Finally, Soul replied, "Uh. Yes."

Maka kicked the door open with her foot, welcoming the rush of cooler air that hit their faces. She felt Soul press towards the door as she moved to exit, but she didn't realize how desperately he'd been trying to escape until his legs moved where she was trying to put hers, and they tripped over each other. They toppled gracelessly onto the floor below them, bringing several posters down with them.

"Ow! What the hell?!" Maka groaned, after landing heavily on her elbow. Soul's response was a gurgle, since she had also landed across his stomach. The sensation was odd; because she had caused him pain by landing on him, she also felt that pain. In essence, she was feeling the weight of herself across her own stomach. It was enough to nearly make her hurl. Carefully she lifted herself onto all fours and groaned at the throbbing in her head. She hadn't hit it, but Soul had hit his. Pretty hard, too, since she was feeling it bad even though his skin was thicker, so to speak, than hers. It took her a moment to get her bearings, her eyes swimming for a second.  
"It's not my fault," he coughed, lying where he landed with the heels of his hands pressed to his eyes. His voice slurred. "Your smell makes me dizzy."

Maka blinked, her face going hot. It took her a very drawn out moment to theorise that he was dizzied by the smoke on her from her exorcism class, but being on all fours with one knee between his legs was not helping to quell the connotations that initially sprang to mind. Maka was gearing up to repress the everloving shit out of that thought, when something under the shelves by Soul's shoulder caught her eye. A shoebox, made of plain brown cardboard. Maka sat up to kneeling and pulled it out, examining it. Soul peeked out from behind his hands, and she read aloud the label on the box, swiping aside the thick layer of dust that indicated it had been years -- or possibly decades -- since anyone had touched it.

"Strictly NO loans"

She opened the box quickly, cradling it almost like a baby, and inside were an assortment of very odd objects: a set of four stones that looked suspiciously like human finger bones, in a clear takeaway sauce container labelled "Geraldine"; a small skull in a bright, unnatural shade of purple, maybe from a small cat or a large ferret; two almost identical leather-bound notebooks, so incredibly old that Maka was almost afraid they would crumble in her hands as she carefully opened one to find it was just someone's old recipe book; a pair of heavy, dangly earrings in a plastic zip baggie, labelled DO NOT WEAR -- CURSED (AND UGLY); and finally, what Maka had thought was a colorful drawer liner paper at the bottom of the box was actually another book. Her heart leapt as she carefully lifted it from the box and held it up to the light. The title had all but faded, but in the light she could make out some embossed words: "Demonology: The Observations of C. Cascade." There was also a short subtitle that seemed to be about the person who had transcribed the book from Chiro's notes, but half of it was illegible.

"Well? Is that it?" Soul asked, staring at it from the floor.  
"This is it, alright," Maka beamed, resisting the urge to hug the book. "We found it!"  
"Fantastic!" Soul replied, with a honeyed tone that caught her attention with its exaggeration. "Now are you gonna sit on me all day or are we blowing this popsicle stand?"

Maka sputtered something and scrambled to the side. In her distraction by the box, she forgot that she had been kneeling over his leg the whole time she searched the box's contents. Now that they were almost out of the woods, the awkwardness of their entire misadventure in the archive room was threatening to come crashing down on her all at once, and she felt a very strong urge to empty her lunch onto the carpet.

Instead, she busied herself with carefully packing the other items into the box, taking extra special care to minimise contact with the cursed earrings' bag. "Aren't you gonna keep some of that?" His tone was somewhat strained, but mostly perlexed. Maka made a point of not looking up.  
"What would I need cursed earrings or a recipe book for?" She dismissed, placing the box far back under the shelf. She wasn't sure if many of the current staff even knew it was there, but she thought it best to minimise the risk of someone suspecting it had been tampered with, or someone else discovering it. Just in case she wanted a recipe for "sweet oyster rice" (unlikely.) Soul busied himself by packing the poster tubes they had brought down with them back into the cabinet where they belonged.

Maka made sure to carefully pack Chiro's notes into her backpack, then led Soul back to the door. He put his ear to it and listened for a few seconds, then nodded and urged her through first, pulling the door shut behind them. Even though the search had been an unexpectedly mortifying experience, Maka couldn't help but feel giddy. For once she had broken the rules, and yet she had gotten out of it alive! As they walked for her next class, Maka couldn't keep the smile off her face.

For the first time in a long time, Maka felt herself yearning for the last bell. She willed her classes to go faster, so that she might get home and discover what was so scandalous about Chiro Cascade's demonology that made someone hide it under a shelf in a dusty box in 1894. Soul was pretty quiet for the rest of the day, but Maka was too preoccupied to question him about it.

When they finally got home, Maka kicked off her shoes and dove for the sofa, already with the book ready to go. She had been afraid to take it out all day, not wanting to be seen with "borrowed" property. But now she could dive in.

She opened the first page, with a foreword by the person who transcribed it. It explained that Chiro was a well-read demonologist, dedicating most of her sixty years alive to the study of demons. She had a difficult home life, as a prodigal exorcist who still prefered to draw demons than to banish them. While her sister gained fame and fortune, Chiro lived her life unmarried and secluded from others in her mountain cottage, though some who scorned her suggested she kept a demon for company, preferring the dark spirits over those of her own world. Chiro died on her sixtieth birthday from a sudden heart attack, leaving behind only and empty cottage with her notes and two cups of tea, both cold and untouched when she was discovered some days later by her apprentice.

"Maka, what's for dinner?" Soul interrupted Maka's thoughts as the pondered the foreword.  
"I don't know. Pick something," she called over her shoulder absently, chewing her lip.  
"I only know like three foods," he reminded her.  
"Well pick one of those," Maka called back, growing impatient.

Soul plodded over to the sofa and bent forward over the back of it, dangling his head in her peripheral vision. "Or, we could have something new and cool and preferably greasy. You know, celebrate our victory. Even though it's just a lousy book."  
"This lousy book," Maka reminded him, "might just be the answer to all your questions."  
"Oh shit, nice. Ask it what's for dinner."

Maka sighed and closed the book. She should have expected this: Soul sitting patiently in classrooms all day meant he was going to be bouncing off the walls now that he was free. "You want greasy?" Maka asked. She stood and got her phone, opening the app for their closest pizza place. "I have just the thing."

For now, she could afford to spend some quality time with the proverbial thorn in her side. After all, despite her misgivings and his obvious discomfort in a classroom, bringing him along had been a good choice. The book could wait for a while. Now that she had it, it wasn't going anywhere. And if it did have answers she didn't like, maybe she could buy herself one last moment of serenity, eating greasy pizza with a friend.

Maka froze over her slice, her eyes locked on Soul. Friend. Not demon. Two weeks ago Maka would have told her such thinking was a dangerous idea. But watching him entertain himself by stretching out strings of cheese, it was hard to believe anything about Soul was dangerous.

"What?" He asked her, noticing the puzzled and slightly blank stare she was giving him. Maka shook herself out of it.  
"Nothing," she shrugged, returning to her food. "You just look better today, that's all."  
"Hm," he mused. "Weird. I feel like a raw potato."

A raw potato. It was hard to imagine him as a bloodthirsty creature full of rage. Maka had trouble even imagining him hurting a fly. Yet, since they bonded, they had never encountered a situation where violence was needed. Maka prayed the stakes never got so high that she would need to see what a demon like Soul did to his enemies.

"I forgot about shopping," Maka remembered, the events of the day having preoccupied her so. "Wanna go tomorrow?"  
"Hm? Oh. Yeah," he shrugged, vague. "I finally get to find out what the fuck a 'mall' is."  
"They're not all that great, actually. But people will get suspicious if you only wear the one set of clothes, so to the mall we must go," Maka sighed. The crowds were exhausting, but it was a necessary evil. In the meantime, she could read her new illegal book.

Maka fell asleep with her book again that night, and woke in the wee hours of the morning to find Soul playing games with headphones on, and a blanket over her legs that hadn't been there before. She put her book aside, pulled the blanket up, and went back to sleep, savoring the last few hours of warmth before her alarm woke her.


	7. In The Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how positive a response this fic is getting! What a wonderful community I have stumbled into. I'm thrilled that the concept has intrigued you guys. 
> 
> It was inspired by old manga I used to read as a kid, with vaguely similar concepts. There was one about a demon who loves sweets, one about a girl who summons rose boys by kissing cards, and of course Kamisama Kiss is a classic. I kinda mashed those with soulmate fics, some bits of inspiration from Inuyasha, Blue Exorcist, Bleach and the like, and this is where I ended up! I have a vague trajectory in mind but I'm more or less writing it as I go.
> 
> This update was a little slower than previous updates because I was unsure where I wanted to go with it, changed what I was going to do halfway through and re-wrote it. Don't worry though, I definitely will be using the scrapped concept a little further down the line, so you're not missing out!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy the chapter xo

By Friday at school, Maka was so distracted that when the bell finally rang at the end of her last class for the day, she made it almost the whole way to herbalism before realising that she had no more classes for the week, and she had been heading for an imaginary class. She missed the bus, and stood in the lightly spitting rain, her mind rolling the words of Chiro Cascade around in her mind, like a cat swats at a ball. She had been reading it in the evenings, practically inhaling the words. She was actually still going, since it was pretty long and hard to follow.

Chiro wrote notes with very choppy, to-the-point language. "Last day of harvest season. Encountered a demon that only cries and follows around Pan, the widower farmer. With permission from Pan, was able to study for several days before host became emotionally intolerant to the demon's presence. Following the loss of Pan's wife, the demon appeared only hours later. Appearance of demon could potentially be related to human activity." This was both an example, and the first entry in Chiro's book.

The next eighty or so pages included many such observational notes, some as short as once sentence, and others taking up multiple pages. Where Chiro was able to connect a demon's appearance in the mortal world to a person, there was almost always a link between the demon's behavior and the person it 'haunted' (so to speak.) 

The further Maka read, the more everything Soul had told her checked out. More disturbing was the implications: someone at the school had hidden this in a dusty old box because they didn't want students to know this stuff. They wanted students to see a demon and exorcise it, without asking questions. And if something as seemingly harmless as some old demonology notes was a threat, what else was being hidden? Or were the people who knew to hide it long dead by now?

Maka was starting to feel unsure. She had always respected the Exorcist Council and the work they did to uphold order, unify the community, educate new generations and co-ordinate resources, but all those things came at a price. If she was researching for a paper, she was expected to quote multiple reputable sources and acknowledge their bias. With the Exorcist Council, there were no multiple sources and she had no frame of reference to determine their bias. And somewhere along the line, someone had used that to hide information on demons from the public.

Maybe she was reading too far into it. She wanted to be wrong, after all. Her life had been comfortable and easy before all this happened. But now the seed was planted, it was getting harder not to see the flaws in the system. She didn't even know anyone she might ask, because every Exorcist she knew of lived under the council. 

As if someone might sniff out the book in her bag, Maka folded her arms over it in her lap. She told herself she was being stupid and paranoid: whoever had hidden that box did so a long, long time ago. There was a chance that nobody around today even remembered or cared what was in it. After all, it troubled her that she had only a sliver of pages left to go and she had seen no mention of demon summoning or bonding in Chiro's notes. Still, she found herself glancing over her shoulder on the walk from the bus stop to her door. It was hard not to feel like she might be poking a hornets nest.

"I'm home," Maka called, kicking off her shoes. It was an hour later than usual, since she had missed the bus, but there was still plenty of time to cook. Or teach Soul to cook.... That wasn't a bad idea. He might as well make himself useful while he was bumming around their house. But as she looked up, she froze. A woman in the white garb of a Council representative was standing in her living room, while Blair read a magazine on the armchair nearby.

Maka just about vomited then and there, convinced that she had been found out. For a moment, her first concern was that the woman had hurt Soul, before she remembered that if Soul had been hurt, she would be hurting too. That didn't mean she was out of the woods, but the fact she wasn't in hell right now, and Blair's calmness, meant the visit was probably for some other purpose. She took a deep breath before greeting the woman.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there," Maka forced a smile. "How can I help?"  
"We have an investigation for you to pursue. Given your success with your last assignment, we thought you might be well suited. A young man has reported a strange person crouching behind his fences at night, moving faster than a human should be able to. Police were unable to find footprints or traces of an intruder. We want to rule out demon activity. Would you investigate?"  
Maka had to fight to keep the sigh of relief in. She had not been found out for the book, and she had not been found out for her demon. She was being given another assignment. "Absolutely. Where is it?"  
"Across the city. Will you be able to make arrangements?" 

Maka sighed and nodded. She had a fair bit of savings, mostly because her father had taken her request for a bit of money and overdone it entirely. She had lied and said the clothes were for her, naturally, so she should have expected his showering of monetary favor. It was just how he was: terrible with his money and completely lacking in self control or nuance. In this case, it came in handy since she could use it to get a hotel and save herself a few hours of bus trips to and from home. 

"Fantastic," said the woman, who walked up and handed Maka a folded piece of paper with an address and a phone number. "As usual, report back when the matter is resolved."

Maka only relaxed once the door closed behind the woman, slumping against the back of the sofa. She opened the piece of paper and glanced at the address. The suburb was... Notoriously sketchy. Well, at least that meant the hotel might be cheaper. 

She skipped down the hall and flung open the door, expecting to find Soul on the computer again. But he wasn't. He was on her bed by the window, where she occasionally found him. But he was looking notably pale, and he seemed to take longer than he should have to realise she was there.

"What took you so long?" He grumbled, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, squishing his face.  
Maka decided not to question his appearance, even though it seemed to be a concerning frequency for him to look unwell. Maybe it was a demon thing. "I missed the bus," she told him, crossing to her closet, where she dug an old grey backpack out of the above-head storage. She tossed this on the bed beside him. "Pack some clothes, we have an assignment." Maka got a small suitcase down from the top of the closet and opened it on the floor, picking out three blouses and three skirts and folding them carefully. 

"What kind of assignment?" Soul grunted as he shuffled off the bed. He had his own clothes in an old trunk in the study, and he went for it, opening both doors.  
"Exorcism, obviously," Maka called back, taking the opportunity to pack underwear and socks. Her most comfortable pajamas made the cut. "Or so this guy thinks."  
"How come they send students, anyway? Isn't that kinda... I dunno, child labory?"  
"I'm eighteen, thank you very much," Maka called back defensively. "And it's more like.... Work experience. Students usually get the ones that are probably false alarms anyway, only rarely do they turn out to be actual demons."

Maka closed the door and got out of her school clothes, throwing on a soft grey sweater and a navy blue circle skirt, with black thermal tights underneath. She considered letting her hair out for warmth, but it always looked weird loose. She settled for a black knit scarf instead.

She threw some toiletries into her suitcase, along with extra burning supplies, Chiro's book (wrapped to protect it, of course) and her laptop and charger, just in case she needed to shut Soul up for a few hours. When she emerged, Soul had changed from the sweatpants and tee he wore around the house into jeans, a yellow hoodie, and a white shirt with a mountain on it (when questioned about the choice, Soul explained that mountains were one of the first things he saw in the human realm and that they looked "chill").

"So, where is this place?"

The place was on the other side of the city, and took over two hours on buses to reach. Maka had a bit of work on her plate to hunt down accommodation that was still open and taking bookings, but she managed to find a motel with a free room. 

"Someone definitely died here," Soul wrinkled his nose at the confrontingly 70s decor, complete with an orange and brown wallpaper feature wall. There was only one bed, but Soul didn't sleep, so that worked out fine. Maka used the coffee maker to fix them packets of ramen she bought with her. Soul made himself comfortable on the sofa, watching. The silence made the growl of Soul's stomach more noticeable.

Maka laughed, and looked over to see Soul staring at his stomach, a frown on his face. "What? Afraid something will burst out?"  
"No," he answered quietly. "It's just not supposed to do that."  
"What do you mean? You're just hungry, drama queen," Maka teased.  
Soul looked at her. "I'm serious. Demons don't get hungry, Maka."  
Maka blinked, perplexed. "Well... Well what have I been feeding you for all this time!?" She cried, realising that he had been raiding her pantry for weeks for no reason. "Are you telling me you have been eating food you didn't need this whole time?"  
"Well yeah, because pizza is amazing," he shrugged.  
"You're unbelievable," Maka huffed, trying her best not to get upset with him.  
"Mmhm. Can I have my noodles now?"

She had a half mind to eat them all herself out of principle, but she slid the bowl over and settled for fixing him with a glare. 

"So why are you hungry?" She asked, now that the shock had worn off. It did seem kind of... Odd.  
"No clue," he shrugged, talking with his mouth half full. "Guess it must be the human world and its terrible influence. That or I'm turning mortal and you might as well put me down like a crippled horse."  
Maka thought for a moment. "Hm. Think it's related to how sickly you're looking lately?"  
"Ouch," he mocked. "I don't know, probably." He did look notably improved since they left the house. But also troubled. Maka felt just the tiniest bit bad for him. She had brought him here and he seemed to be suffering for it.

They ate mostly in silence, and Maka had the feeling that his condition was troubling him more than he let on. Not that she could do much about it, except keep reading her book and figure out more about demons. 

When she was finished, he was still eating, picking at his food slowly, so she took to opportunity to get her supplies ready. "We will find the place tonight and see if the demon shows up, I think. The lady said it appears at night, so I'd rather try and get my own observations before I go to the caller himself," Maka told him, stealing a glance to watch him push his half-eaten food away.  
"Whatever gets us outta here. This wallpaper is killing whatever appetite I had," he joked, getting up out of his chair. "Ready when you are."

Maka had to use her phone to guide them to the address. Their walk was eerie, over cracked sidewalks and bars with loud patrons spilling into the streets. The house was about ten minutes walk from their accommodation. It was a townhouse at the end of a street, surrounded by a wooden picket fence in disrepair. It had been painted white, once. Now the garden was overgrown with weeds and pink, round flowers -- likely a hardy plant left from when the garden wasn't in disrepair. To their right, a small patch of wooded parkland was swallowed in the darkness. 

Maka let her eyes scan over the property, looking for signs of movement. Nothing. A few lights inside were on, but they offered little to illuminate the exterior. Trying to keep quiet, Maka began to circle the property outside the fence line, moving towards the trees. The air was cold and biting, seeming to blow right through her. A rustle in the trees made her jump, but it was only an owl, it's heavy wingstrokes fading into the night. Maka circled the property all the way to the back, but she saw nothing.

"It only appears at 7:46," called a voice, so suddenly it made Maka shout. She saw Soul appear around the side of the house, faster than should be physically possible. A man was sticking his head out the window. He was young, maybe in his 20s, with a close shaven head and a scar that cut into his hairline. "Real specific."  
"Sorry, we didn't mean to snoop. We were just trying to catch it in the act, whatever it is," Maka called up, shoving her hands in her pockets to shield them from the cold.  
"S'cool. Like I said, the first time I saw it, it was at 7:46pm. It shows up every night since. At first I thought it was a friend of mine out there, the first night, but it ducked away when I yelled out the window. Then it just keeps coming, lurking pre' much where you're standing." The man leaned against the windowsill. "Whatcha think it is?"

Maka looked around, but she couldn't see any animal tracks in the dark. "Can't say. We'll look in the morning when it's light for tracks, rule out your friend. What did you say his name was?"  
"I didn't," called the man, standing up again. "Just a friend. It wasn't him. He'd have said somethin or come in."  
Maka nodded, but she wasn't entirely convinced. "Do you live alone?"  
"Yeah, why?"  
"Just make sure you lock up at night, okay?" Maka called. Demons could be dangerous, but she was more worried if it was a human lurking in this guy's backyard.  
The man laughed dryly. "You must live somewhere nice, girlie. C'ourse I'm gonna lock my door."

Maka nodded, satisfied. "We'll be back tomorrow at 7:30." She turned to go, then paused, turning back. "Sorry, one last thing, what was the first day you noticed it? When you mistook it for your friend?"  
"Uh, the 26th. Not last Tuesday, but the Tuesday before."  
"Right. We'll see you tomorrow evening. Thanks for your help," she smiled.  
"No problem," he said, a little awkwardly, and closed his window. She heard a click of the lock.

Soul made his way around, his eyes on the window. "Smells like blood around here," he wrinkled his nose.  
"What, really?" Maka pulled a face. "How much?"  
"Not much. But it's human, so of course it clings. Ugh," he rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go. You're cold, so I'm cold. It's awful."

They made their way back the way they had come. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to go on. They hadn't seen the alleged demon, though the specific time of each appearance made her think that it could indeed be supernatural. As Chiro had mentioned, demons rarely appear without cause. Maka wondered if the time had a significance to the demon, and breifly chuckled to herself. Even if Chiro couldn't help her Soul situation, at least she had given Maka valuable insight into the behaviour of demons. In fact, it was odd to her that the research and been censored in the first place. She couldn't figure out why.

Soul stopped suddenly, and in her deep thought, it took Maka a second to realise. He was at the door of a bar, listening to the music drifting out the door and into the cold street. It was a piano, being sloppily played by a laughing woman. He seemed mesmerised by the sound. 

Maka smiled. Apparently demons like music just as much as people. She walked back and into the threshold of the bar, tugging Soul in by the sleeve of his jacket. There was a pool table in the middle of the room, flanked by several tall men, and the piano was against the wall next to an ancient jukebox. It was a standing piano, and looked old, but it was tuned. The woman stood, stumbling over to the pool table, and Soul sat down, staring at the keys.

"It's a piano" Maka informed him, leaning against the wall beside the instrument.  
Soul looked at her. "I know."  
"What? You have pianos in hell?"  
Soul's eyes drifted over the keys. "No. Just... I don't know. Seems right. It's a spirit thing, sometimes there are just things we're made for. And..." He lifted his hands and pressed a sequence of keys with one, then harmonised it with a chord on the other hand. It sang nicely.

Maka's mouth about fell open. This was not what she had been expecting. And just moments ago she had been happy with herself for all she had learned about demons. Apparently she had a lot left to learn. She stared, dumbstruck, as he plucked out a short tune, simple but perfect, and a little sad. Then he got up and tilted his head for the door, and they left again.

It took Maka a few paces to find her words of astonishment. "You can just.... Do that!?"  
"I guess. It's kind of lame..."  
"What? It's amazing! Gosh, if I could just pick up a talent without ever having to learn it..." She blew air out of her cheeks.  
"Hah," he scoffed. "You, not wanting to learn shit? Outlandish concept."  
"I'm not THAT much of a bookworm," she defended with a pout.  
"Mmhm. And what are the chances you missed the bus today because of your stupid book?"

Maka didn't dignify that with a response because it hit the bullseye. She had been pouring over it for the whole week. 

"I think I should tell you something. It's super uncool so you're not allowed to tell any of your absolutely no friends, ok?" He blurted suddenly, stopping in the street and glancing around, as if anyone would be around to eavesdrop.  
"Ouch," Maka pouted at him, stopping with him. "What is it?"  
"I've thought about it, and I get sick when you're not around," he huffed in one breath, as if he were ripping off a band-aid. "I felt better the day I came with you to the academy, and I never feel terrible when you're home. I think if I don't follow you around..."

Thinking about it, his theory added up. She had noticed his condition fluctuating, growing worse and better, usually the latter later at night. Was her absence affecting him because of their bond?

"Now that I think about it, it adds up," she hummed, nodding thoughtfully. "Good thing I brought you along this weekend, huh?"  
"Well it's uncool as hell to get sick because you're gone, like some dumbass puppy," he declared. "Don't tell Blair about this."  
Maka frowned, instantly soured. "Ugh, of course Blair is your primary concern," she rolled her eyes and kept walking.  
"So what are we gonna do about it?"  
"About what?"  
Soul had to break his casual pace to keep up with her irritated stride. "About the... Thing?"

Maka sighed and stopped again. "Well as much as I don't want you shadowing me and drawing unwanted attention, I guess you'll have to attend class more often or something. It'll have to do until we figure out how to ship you back south."  
Soul narrowed his eyes. "You seem eager to get rid of me."  
"You seem eager to eat all my food when you're not physically capable of hunger!"  
With a flinch, Soul glanced around. "SSH, do you want the whole neighbourhood to hear?"

Maka sighed and kept walking, her pace more reasonable now. "What does it matter? I'm starting to think that nobody even knows or cares about Chiro Cascade or demon bonding. Why wouldn't the conspirators keep their own demons? You know, give themselves a leg up on the rest of us? Wouldn't we have noticed something off? Besides, I've read nearly her entire notes and nothing mentions summoning demons, or bonding." She realised now, saying it aloud, how dejected this made her feel. She had been hoping that this book would answer all her questions, and it hadn't.  
"I know there's a reason, Maka," Soul said, his voice pained, frustrated. "My stupid brain won't tell me. It's like I'm forgetting something that I haven't learned yet. I envy your linear brain."  
Maka glanced over at him, and softened. "It's not your fault. We're doing the best we can."

Their motel had all the lights off, and Maka had to use her phone light to guide them up the stairs to their door. As she unlocked the door, she turned to let Soul in first, but he was looking out into the darkness, a frown on his face. She waited a few seconds, and he turned towards the door, his brow still creased. "What was it?" She asked, as he slouched past her into the dark room. 

"Nothing. Thought I heard something."


	8. Crescent Moon

Maka woke up to the sun glaring through a gap in the curtains. Her eyes stung and she put her hand up to block the light. 

"Ugh, what time is it?" Maka grunted as she flopped into her back, feeling somewhat ridiculous lying in a nest of fluffy blankets and pillows at the centre of the bed. It had been cold, so she'd burrowed and tossed and now her legs were wrapped in the sheet. She slowly tugged them out, rubbing at her eyes and looking for Soul, who hadn't answered her. But Soul wasn't in the room.

Maka sat up so quickly she dizzied herself, taking a second look to confirm the lack of insomniac demon boy. Indeed, her computer was closed on the dining table where she had been using it the night before to look up recent news for the area surrounding their demon investigation. 

Maka was suddenly aware that Soul didn't have a phone, and she had no way of contacting him if he decided to go somewhere. She reluctantly dragged herself out of bed to discover it was 8:46 am, and Soul hadn't left a note. A quick glance outside told her he wasn't on the balcony on the other side of the door, nor in the parking lot as far as she could see. She began to worry, but remembered that if Soul was hurt, she would know about it. Still, it would be nice to know where the hell he'd gone. If only their bond came with a telepathic link or something.

Maka stopped, her hand on the back of the chair as she had a thought. "It's stupid," she told herself, out loud, because it felt odd to be alone after so many days of having a shadow. There was no way. But it was impossible not to try it now that she had thought of it. If it didn't work, who would know?

Maka closed her eyes and tied to imagine her consciousness was a big sheet, and she was unfolding it further and further. "Can you hear me?" She thought, clenching her eyes shut as she held her breath, waiting.

"Nothing," she announced, to nobody in particular, letting her breath out and rolling her eyes at herself after about ten seconds of waiting. It was only after this attempt that she realised that in a way, they did have a telepathic link after all. 

She raised her hand to her ear and flicked it, flinching as her nail bit her skin. She did it three times, at even intervals, then waited. She felt bad for using pain to get his attention, but this was the simplest solution. Like a silent 'are you there?' If he responded, he was just somewhere else, perfectly able to respond. Hopefully he would understand the intention.

And sure enough, she felt a fourth sting, fainter than the ones she did herself. Things didn't hurt him as much as they hurt her, so that was to be expected. It was certainly the first time she had ever beamed after feeling pain. It was sort of cool, like she was a kid discovering string-and-cup phones for the first time. Of course, she had no idea where he had gone, but she didn't doubt he could handle himself.

Now that she didn't have to worry about her pet person, Maka took her rare piece of alone time as an opportunity to shower. It was a little hard to tell if the grout between the tiles was dark, or just irreparably mouldy. Despite this, and the cold shower curtain that kept sticking to her wet skin, the water pressure was way better than it was at home. She stayed in for a lot longer than she probably should have because of it. 

"Shit," she muttered, stepping out to find she'd left her bag in the main room. No big deal, she'd run and grab it. She wasn't entirely game to change out there, since the curtains didn't quite close properly. She made sure to get one of the towels, which seemed to be made for a child rather than an adult human. Good thing she was small. And just as well, because when she flung the door, open, someone was standing in the room, swinging a massive bladed weapon.

Maka screamed and nearly slipped on the tiles, saved by falling into the door frame. It took her a second, but she recognised the profusely apologizing wielder as Soul.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" She cried, carefully putting herself upright and clinging to her towel. "What is that?" Her finger flung out to point accusingly at the massive scythe in his hand.  
"Its---" he paused, one hand out, as if stuck on his answer. Apparently finding nothing, he gestured at it. "It's my... thing."  
"Your thing?"  
"Yes."  
"You don't know what it's called?" Maka asked, raising an eyebrow. His silence spoke his answer. "It's called a scythe." Now that she was looking at it, the blade seemed familiar. With a start, she realised that when she had first summoned Soul, the blade had been a part of him. "You can just... Conjure that? Out of thin air?"  
Soul flashed a smile, and the scythe disappeared into thin air from his hand. A second later, it reappeared in his other hand. "Not that I like to brag."

"That's pretty cool," she admitted. Very cool, actually. He'd been holding out on her with the cool demon party tricks. This whole time she thought his only talent was eating an unnatural volume of pop tarts. "Now for your next trick, could you toss me my bag?" Maka pointed to her bag, slumped against the bed. "Where'd you go?"  
Soul made his weapon disappear again, and threw her bag across the room before Maka could stop him. She barely managed to catch it without dropping her towel, and she threw him a look. "Sorry. And I went to the store," he announced, sounding like he was trying not to be proud of himself. "Got breakfast. Nice ear trick by the way, I nearly broke the nose of the old lady next to me."

She took her bag and retreated behind the door, leaving it open a crack so she could continue the conversation. "I had an idea about that, by the way. I thought we could come up with a system. Flicking the ear is like 'are you okay' or something, and you can flick once for yes or twice for no. And we can come up with other codes like that." She jumped to get into her jeans.  
"Makes sense," he called, and she could hear him messing around with a paper bag. He turned the TV on to a news channel.  
"If we do this," she shouted, wriggling to get her arms into her bra. She pressed her fingernails into her palm. "It means emergency."  
"You're know that if you're stressed enough to need help, I'll feel it without you having to do that, yeah?" He reminded her.  
"Well yes, but I also don't want you to come running every time I sit down to watch Gone Girl," Maka pointed out.  
"What's Gone Girl?"  
Maka snorted. "I'm going to save you a lot of emotional labor by telling you not to worry about it."

Now dressed, Maka marched out to find Soul leaning against the wall nearby, holding out a bakery bag. "Pumpkin pastry," he explained.  
Maka was taken aback. "Where did you get the money for this?"  
"Blair paid me to clean her study," he shrugged.  
"Ugh, you mean her junk room. You shouldn't have--" Maka stopped herself and took the bag. "Thanks, Soul." She sat down at the tiny dining table by the kitchenette to eat. Soul stayed where he was. 

"So I think I found a lead," he told her, examining his hand. "Turns out I'm pretty good at this detective stuff."  
Maka raised a brow. "Mmhm. And what's the lead?"  
"So I searched your guy, and there's pretty much nothing on him. He's clean, legally speaking. At least as far as Google is concerned."  
"Where'd you learn to google people all of a sudden?"  
Soul threw her a bored look. "I googled it?" Maka nodded, accepting the answer, and he continued. "Anyway, get this: around the time he said the demon started appearing, he made a post about his brother's girlfriend dying. Stabbed in a home invasion, no charges laid yet because they haven't found the culprit or the weapon. I thought maybe the brother did it, but both him and our guy are accounted for at the time because they were livestreaming a game together, from our guy's house, at the time of the murder."

Interesting. She was a little bit proud that he'd managed to find all that on his own overnight. And glad, since the job had been done for her. "Okay, good work. But if the brothers are innocent, why is our guy seeing demons?"  
"Remember the first night, he said he thought the demon was his friend? I think that he actually saw the culprit the first night, not the demon. For whatever reason they went to the house and left something that's attracting the demon."  
Maka chewed thoughtfully, swallowing before replying, "that's a bold conclusion to jump to. Maybe our guy knows who did it and the demon is his guilt? Or maybe there is no demon and it's just a coincidental raccoon?"  
"I thought that too, but last night I smelled blood. It was faint, but it was there. Couldn't exactly go looking with the guy watching us."

Maka's jaw nearly dropped, before she remembered her table manners. "Is that why you were skulking around the side?"  
"Little bit."  
"I'm impressed. You actually know how to read," she grinned at him, watching him bristle slightly. He didn't take the bait, though he did pull a face at her. "Well, if we can avoid having to wait until tonight to solve this, that means we can check out and save ourselves the cost of another night."  
"That's just too bad," Soul deadpanned. "The murder room was really starting to grow on me."

Maka finished her breakfast and they made their way back to the house. The bar where he had played the piano the night before was closed at such an early hour, and she didn't miss that he glanced through the window as they passed.

"You like music?" She blurted, a little worried it was a stupid question. He adapted surprisingly quickly, culturally speaking, but she didn't want to assume anything. At the same time, his musical talent was naggingly fascinating.  
"Pretty cool how I can just do that, huh?" He smirked, as if sharing an inside joke with himself. "Not very handy for you, though. Too bad you didn't land someone with a more useful talent."

Maka pressed her lips together to stop herself from expressing some kind of... sentiment. If she got attached, it would emotionally complicate sending him back to hell later on. If she ever found out how to do that without taking the same trip herself. Instead, she settled for a joke. "You never know, the pianist for my next grand gala dinner might cancel last minute. Then you'd come in handy."  
Soul snorted. "You're alright for a human, you know that? So glad I didn't get stuck with a racist old dude. Or one of those people that try to sell garbage to their friends online."  
"Such high praise," she muttered dryly. 

The morning light was rosy, and his white hair glowed as he sauntered easily along the sidewalk. Paired with his berry brown eyes and yellow bomber jacket, he was all warm colors. He was grinning at her sarcastic comment, his sharp teeth flashing. His smile used to unnerve her, but now she was sure he would look unnatural with flat teeth. He turned to look across the street and caught her staring. He tilted his head in a question, like he was worried he had food on his face. She had told herself no sentiments, but it couldn't hurt, could it? 

"You've grown on me somewhat," she announced, straightening her back with pride. "Even though you scare me with weapons first thing in the morning, and tease me for doing all the work."  
"I would accept the compliment," he began, scratching his chin, "except I feel like you're only in the mood to be nice to me because I fed you fifteen minutes ago."  
"Yeah," she giggled, though she didn't think that was quite true. She caught sight of the mark on his finger, and checked hers. As if it would have disappeared overnight.

When they got to the house, Maka knocked on the door. The man she had spoken to the night before opened it, looking like he had just rolled out of bed -- which was entirely likely, given the time of day.

"Sorry to disturb you, but we have a theory about your 'animal' problem. Do you have a minute?"

Twenty minutes later, with the help of Soul's nose and a few pairs of gloves, Maka unearthed a bloodied knife from the overgrown grass by the fence. As they waited for the authorities, Maka watched as a small, almost animal creature slinked in the shadows of the forest nearby, then bolted suddenly. She reached into her bag for her burning supplies, but Soul put his hand on her wrist gently. 

"It's too fast. I'll get it."

Before she could ask, he disappeared into the foliage. Just before she lost sight of him, she saw a tall, sharp shadow appear beside him, like a crescent moon stretching for the canopy. Every day he seemed to have a new surprise, something up his sleeve that she didn't know about yet. She found herself holding her breath every day, wanting to know what new facet of Soul would reveal itself, and at the same time, hoping it wouldn't be one that killed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone! My gift to you: this chapter.
> 
> Slightly off topic, but if anyone knows/remembers who wrote that Miss Congeniality SoMa AU years ago and then erased it from existence some time between 2014 and now, tell them to re-upload that shit for the good of the people. I tried to find it and couldn't :( or if anyone feels like writing their own, throw us a link in the comments. It's all I need in my life right now.


	9. Cascade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is a bit of a shorter one but I needed a segue into the next chapter, which will feature around events foreshadowed below. The next chapter will also be the end of what is loosely the first act, introducing some background characters who will become important later. It will probably also be long as heck and full of action. So I'm hype for that, and I hope you guys are too! Thanks for reading.

Soul had nearly been entirely asleep for how spaced he was, when Maka slammed the book shut all of a sudden, a look of frustration on her face. He jolted back to reality.

"Careful, she's an old lady," he tilted his chin towards the book. They were in the library on Maka's free period, and Soul was sitting with all her class books open on front of him to make their 'personal assistant' excuse look valid. Soul noticed that only one other student had an assistant -- a rich underclassman of Maka's. He was pretty sure her assistant couldn't summon weapons from thin air, though. 

Maka threw an apologetic glance at the book and put her head in her hands. "Nothing. Just a paragraph on the last page about her death. Everything else is notes and observations about everything but --" she seemed to catch herself, throwing nervous glances around the quiet library. "Everything except what we're looking for."

She looked tired. She had been staying up later and later all week, scouring the internet for clues, drawing up blanks. Today, she had finished reading Chiro's notes for a second time, but not a single word about demon summoning could be found. And she had been trying to hide it, but she was getting increasingly nervous about his presence. It was at the point where even Blair, who didn't seem to give much of a shit about anything, had asked a few nights ago whether or not Soul ever went home. He made some lame excuse and Blair had accepted it with a shrug, but Maka had almost made him "leave" and climb back through the window.

"You look terrible," sighed a girl to Maka, startling Soul from his brooding by plopping down onto a spare seat at their study table. Soul very nearly summoned his weapon, but managed to restrain himself just in time. She had hair the color of cotton candy. Her eyes, bored, slid to Soul, and she raised a brow. "I'd heard you had a shadow," she said to Maka.  
Maka seemed the bristle, though Soul didn't know why. "Soul, this is Kim. Kim, Soul."  
Kim didn't acknowledge the introduction. "And what does the valedictorian need an assistant for?"  
Maka busied herself with packing up the books in front of her. Soul saw her purposefully hide Chiro's book. "Senior year is stressful. Plus, he's a family friend. He needed the work."  
Kim seemed to almost roll her eyes. "Of course he is. Is he... You know..? People say he always goes home with you."  
"I have to study, Kim," Maka replied stiffly.  
"Right," smiled the girl with strain, and she got out of her chair to throw a glance at Soul, almost as an afterthought. "Nice meeting you."

And with that odd encounter, Kim disappeared into the shelves, leaving Maka visibly annoyed and Soul very confused.

"So, what the hell just happened?" He asked, resting his chin on his hand as Maka aggressively tidied the table.  
"Kim. She's fine," Maka responded, very red in the face all of a sudden.  
"Something about your uh," he waved his hand at her, "general body language  
... It makes me think she's not fine."  
"Just ignore her. She always does this. Scopes out new people and tries to weasel info out of them. Usually to figure out who's rich enough to wrestle money from," Maka finally said. "Though I don't like what she said about you."  
Soul felt slightly warm. "I have thick skin."  
Maka threw him a look, leaning closer over the table. "It's not that. It's just... It doesn't look good if people notice you get off at my stop and go to the same house."

Soul drew up a blank. She was talking like they were discussing his demonhood, not housing arrangements.

"Uh. Why?"  
Maka deflated with a short huff of air. "Ugh, how do I explain this without making it weird..."  
"You're already making it weird."  
The way she bristled when he embarassed her never got old. "They just get the wrong idea, okay!" She crossed her arms and leaned closer to the table. "If you don't live there, people tend to assume things if you spend a lot of time at a girl's house. Or they think you're some hoodlum whose mother kicked him out of the house for drugs or something like that."

The penny dropped. He forgot that humans were weird about this sort of thing. And maybe so was he, because he had just been mistaken for Maka's lover, and the thought of it gave him a strange feeling of stress that he had never before encountered and didn't care to explore because it made him want to hide, which wasn't cool. Instead, he masterfully dodged the subject.

"Hoodlum? Has it occurred to you that you sometimes seem a little... Repressed? Sheltered?"  
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Hm."  
"Look, just tell them I live there. No big deal," he rocked back on his chair, the pegs and nails creaking under his weight.  
"I guess. Just.... Don't draw any attention to yourself."

Maka stared at the cover of Chrio's book, perplexed. As if the answers she was looking for were hidden in the patterns on the cover, and they would jump out at her if she just looked a little harder. Soul rolled his eyes, reached over, and took the book from her hands.

"You have to stop. You're not going to achieve anything by reading this over and over. We'll find another book."  
"I just don't understand. It's just a demonology book. I mean I guess it's kind of slightly radical in that she didn't exorcise them all right away, and took time to study them for extended periods, but I do not see why that could possibly be...." She waved her hands at the book, and Soul looked at the cover. "I don't know. Dangerous?"  
She had a point, and yet the contents seemed unassuming. He found himself doing the same thing as she had been, looking at the cover for some answers to pop out at him. But there was nothing. Just title, and a subtitle about the translator. "Maybe this Victor Cascade guy wrote some other stuff?"

Maka snapped to attention and she snatched the book. "What? Who? Where did you see that?"  
Soul raised a brow and pointed to the subtitle. It was faded badly, but he could still make out the stains of the old ink. "Uh, right there? Victor Cascade?"  
"I..." She squinted and shook her head. "I can't see that. Are you sure it's what it says?"  
"Oh," Soul replied uselessly. "I guess I have better eyes or something. It's faded pretty bad--"  
"You're incredible!" She beamed, barely able to contain her glee. "We have a lead!!! I thought the other book said she never married..."  
"Doesn't mean she didn't have a kid," he reminded her.  
"Hm. The final paragraph mentioned that there were two cups of tea still on her table when she died. It's possible it was for a child, or an unmarried partner. Odd for her time, but not impossible," Maka sighed. "Well, it's the best lead we've got!"

She packed her things into her bag and stood, beckoning him. She led him to an odd aisle that seemed to be an index, where she began searching for the name Victor Cascade. As she searched, Soul leaned against the opposite aisle, watching her. Bored, his eyes drifted, and at the end of the aisle he spotted a very loud poster. It read:

'284TH ANNUAL NIGHT HUNT'

Soul kicked off the wall and lumbered over to it, reading the details. It seemed to be some sort of sport event held in the school. It advertised a cash prize and free tours of the Council's chambers to the winners. A cash prize sounded intriguing. He knew Maka hated her father for a reason she refused to go into, and hated what dependence on him she had, so maybe a prize might give her some independence. Or, Soul could buy awesome new shoes or something.

"There's nothing here except a newspaper article," she called. "We'll--"  
"What's this?" He asked over his shoulder, interrupting before she could traipse off looking for newspaper clippings. He heard her walk up behind him, her shoes creaking as she tip-toed to look over his shoulder.  
"I totally forgot that was this Friday!" She gasped. "Its like a tradition. The school hosts a night hunt. You can enter for free, and if you win, you get money and some sort of academic prize like a tour or a museum pass. It's mostly for students but sometimes adult exorcists enter. Pretty much everyone goes, it's really fun."  
Soul raised a brow. "The fuck is a night hunt?"  
"Ummm so it's sort of like a fox hunt. A handful of people are selected randomly as 'foxes' and the rest of the entrants are 'hounds'. The game goes for about 40 minutes, and any entrant who catches a fox, wins. If a fox isn't caught, the fox wins instead. It's pretty fun. Sucks to be a fox though, because everyone gangs up on you. But they are also allowed to trip each other."

Soul tapped his arm in thought. "We should sign up."  
"What?" She sputtered. "What do you mean, we? You can't enter."  
"Why? You said non-students enter."  
"W-well yes, but... You know...." She leaned closer, her woodsmoke and herb scent wafting. "You're at a bit of an unfair advantage, aren't you?"  
Soul put a hand to his throat, letting his mouth fall open. "Maka Albarn, I am appalled." When she seemed unimpressed, he nudged her arm and snorted. "I can't run all that much faster than the average human, anyway. It's the punches you gotta watch out for. These guns are unbeatable."  
She rolled her eyes. "Sure they are. I'm serious though, all it would take is one cracked wall or a thrown opponent to clue someone in. They watch the whole thing with the school cameras, you know. That's how they determine disputes."  
"So, I'll be careful. I don't need demon power to win. Plus, we have a better chance with two horses in the race."  
"Don't say that so loud," she hissed, but she seemed to soften. "You don't get it, this thing is taken seriously. It's a rite of passage around here. People go hard! There is this guy who isn't really a student, he graduated like three years ahead of his age, but he always enters and nearly always catches a fox. Skateboards aren't technically illegal and he plays dirty. And then there's Blackstar, who you've met. He doesn't actually ever win but he makes it a hell of a lot harder for everyone else. It's really brutal sometimes. Last year, Ox Ford was a fox and he got his nose broken when a hound tackled him into a drinking fountain. If someone pushes you, you have to be careful not to push them back too hard, because people will definitely know something is wrong once you start throwing people into walls!"  
"All the more reason to bring me, so nobody throws you into a wall." He grinned at her. "I'll be like your uh....wingman bodyguard."

She stared him down for what felt like an eternity, her arms folded. "Fine, I'll let you enter. Besides, it's easier when hounds team up. We can make a strategy to corner a fox or something. And that prize wouldn't be so bad..."  
"Hell yeah. Five hundred bucks," he nodded appreciatively.  
"What? No, I meant the tour. The council chambers will have the offices of the members, including the school's headmistress. If someone is hiding something about demon summoning, maybe they keep it under lock and key in their offices!"  
"Oh. Yeah I definitely also thought of that," he lied badly, though it made her laugh. "Just as long as you can keep up with me."  
"Mmhm. Tell me that when I leave you in the dust," she winked. It made him dizzy. "Come on, we'll try and find that newspaper."

"Are we teaming up or competing?" He asked, as he followed her into the library. "Because that had a very competitive tone. "  
"Hm. It did, didn't it?"

He tried not to smile. He tried really hard. Grinning and following a girl like a lost puppy wasn't cool.


	10. The Baying of a Vicious Hound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! This week has been busy, and I've been cramming writing this into whatever scraps of free time I got, so apologies if my quick skim missed any mistakes. Hope you all had a pleasant new year's x

Maka groaned and knelt to fix her shoelace. Again. She hated when they weren't the same tension, it was completely distracting.

"How many times are you going to do that?" Soul sighed, enviably relaxed. They were in the dining hall of the school, where the night hunt always started. It was toward the front of the sprawling, nigh labyrinthine school, and more or less centred, making it the perfect place to begin a race. Maka had been mentally prepping all day, walking the halls in her spare time and memorising routes and shortcuts. Soul, on the other hand, seemed unperturbed by the impending scramble.

Maka ignored his question and stood straight. They each had a fabric flag with a number pinned to their chest and back. Soul was 24, Maka was 25. Under his number was his name: Soul "Evans". Maka had entirely forgotten that he would need a last name, but Soul surprised her by coming up with a real surname on the fly. 

"Okay, so the plan: stick together, catch a fox. Easy, right?"  
Soul snorted. His calm was infuriating. "Sure. Not really a plan, though. It's just kind of... The aim of the entire game. Your plan is 'do what we're supposed to'. You're a great hypeman, though." He kicked off the pillar he had been leaning on and groaned. "When's this thing gonna start, anyway? We've been standing around forever."  
"They have to tally up the entrants and select the foxes. Foxes will have five minutes to run before the bell chimes. Be patient," she said, though she herself was eager for it to start. She wasn't good at most games, but the Night Hunt was simple enough, even for Maka. Plus, while she couldn't throw a ball to save her life, she could sure as hell run. "We're going to kill it out there," she said with confidence, though it was mostly for herself. Then, as an afterthought, she added "Figuratively. Figuratively kill it. No literal killing."  
"Yes, sir," Soul chuckled.

"Entrants, if I could have your attention," called a voice. Dr. Stein, the biology and demonology professor, was holding a microphone. The chattering room hushed. "Welcome to the two-hundred and eighty-fourth night hunt. We have an impressive turnout of over ninety entrants tonight, which means we have selected nine among you as our foxes."

Stein went over the rules, and Soul leaned over to whisper, "So, which way are we running?"  
"You can't just pick a direction, Soul, you have to look for clues and listen, and ask yourself, 'if I was a fox, where would I go?' that's how you win."  
"Hm. And have you ever actually won with that strategy?" Maka paused, a frown on her face. "Thought so. Just take it easy, i'll just sniff out the fox."  
"Among a hundred others?" Maka raised a brow.  
"Hm. True. You do all smell the same."

"Twenty-five!" Called Stein, impatiently, drawing Maka's attention. "Is twenty-five present?"  
Maka looked down at her shirt and swore. "I didn't actually think one of us would get called!" She put her hand up, and Stein beckoned her to the front of the room before calling more foxes.  
"So what now?"  
"Um. Just... You try and catch a fox, and I'll try not to get caught. Yeah?"  
"But what if I see you? Can't I just catch you?"  
Maka squinted at him. "Why would you want to do that when you could go for any other person?" She whispered. "I can't just let you catch me, it would be unfair!"  
Soul just shrugged one shoulder. "Fine, then don't. I'd catch you anyway. I'm otherworldly, remember? Plus, you're stinky so it wouldn't be hard to track you down," He whispered.

"Oh, very nice of you," Maka narrowed her eyes. So, he was making it a competition, huh? His funeral. "You can only run as fast as I can, right?" Soul tensed, as if kicking himself for telling her that. Maka smiled. "See you in forty. Better pick another fox because you won't catch this one!"

She skipped into the crowd, laughing. The foxes were being given red bandanas for their heads, to identify them. Maka looked into the crowd to try and spot Soul, but he was nowhere to be found.

"You all have five minutes to get as deep into the school as you can. Subterranean levels and outdoors are out of bounds. Everything else is fair game. If you are tagged, give the winner your bandana and send them back here. Good luck."

Maka lined up with the other nine foxes. She noticed Kim Diehl a few spaces down, looking miffed. She was probably out for the prize money, but it was a lot harder to win as a fox. Maka was confident though, because she wasn't the top of her class and trusted with real world assignments for no reason. If she could hide an illegal demon for weeks without anyone noticing, she could do this. 

Behind them, the crowd of hounds watched. Among the crowd she spotted the black and white hair of Kid. He came every year, skateboard in hand. She would have to watch out for him. He didn't need the money, he just seemed to do it for fun. And of course, Blackstar was at the front of the crowd, doing very exaggerated stretches. 

The doors of the dining hall opened into the hall beyond. Her options from there were right, left, or straight. "On your marks," called Sid, another teacher. He raised a whistle to his lips, and Maka tensed. As soon as it sounded, she sprinted. 

The foxes spilled forward, their crossroads ahead. Two went left, four went right, and the remaining two others went forward with Maka. Her runners squeaked on the polished floors, and at the end of the hall, she took a right into the stairwell. Her plan was to head for the east wing. She would hopefully end up somewhere near Stein's office in the cluster of science classrooms by the time the second whistle blew. She would hear that over the school intercom, so at least she wouldn't have to guess when her time was up.

It was eerie running past the windows of the easternmost corridor and seeing the darkness outside. She was used to seeing the place in the day, and now that there were only nine people loose, the whole school seemed to creak and grown under the centuries of history it carried. Maka stopped to look out at the sprawling gardens on the ground level below. They rustled in the cool night breeze, and she startled when she realised that a topiary moving in the breeze wasn't a topiary at all, but a person. She was obviously female, but she wore a hood. She had seemingly appeared out of nowhere by the wall near a rose bush, and was now making her way across the gardens. Maka squinted, straining to see who it was, because who would be out there at this hour, taking a stroll? She thought at first that maybe on of the other foxes was cheating by going outside, but then the woman stopped and tensed, as if she had heard something that stopped her progress. The woman's head lifted, and her yellow eyes immediately found Maka's.

Maka recognised her immediately as the headmistress, though she was rarely seen around the school. While the sight of someone on the faculty should have quieted Maka's discontent at seeing the figure... For some reason, the look on the headmistress' face did nothing to quell the unease that bubbled in Maka. She felt as though she had seen something she shouldn't have, even though there was nothing to see. Just the headmistress strolling in the gardens at night. A little odd, but not exactly incriminating. So why did she feel like she was invading? Maybe the unwavering stare that the headmistress was fixing her. 

The blare of the second whistle over the intercom jarred Maka out of her staredown. She looked around, remembering where she was all of a sudden. The hounds would be coming, and she hadn't even reached her planned starting point because she had stopped to stare out the window. With a chill, Maka looked down again, but the headmistress was gone. Shaking herself, she planted her focus firmly in the matter at hand: the game.

She arrived at Stein's office and checked the door next to it, which led into another stairwell. This one only went to the level below, but it provided a convenient and discreet hiding place where she could monitor the hall with the door cracked open, or run into the corridor if someone came from below. She had a plan for each scenario: If they came from the hall she had just come from, she would close the door carefully and sneak downstairs to the library, where she could sneak in the shelves and find a discreet exit. If they came from below, she would run back the way she came and toward the gym, which had corridors on three sides that led to different parts of the lower floor, so she would be less likely to get cornered. In the Night Hunt, getting cornered was death to a fox. 

Maka sat down on the floor on the upper landing of the stairwell, using her elbow to hold the door slightly ajar and keep an eye on the hall. She picked absently at the ankle of her pants and listened, but she couldn't hear very much. Faintly, she felt an odd echo of adrenaline, and suspected it was Soul. She had found that it wasn't just his pain that she could feel. If he got excited or angry, she could feel it faintly, almost as if the emotion was her own. One time he had seen Blair almost drop her towel, and the collateral feelings Maka got from Soul made her want to peel off her skin and scrub her skeleton clean with a toothbrush. 

She was busy being freshly salty when she heard a sound. An odd, shallow rumble, or a scraping. Almost like....

Skateboard.

Maka shut the cracked door to the stairwell the moment she saw Kid come into view around the corner. She scrambled down the flight of stairs and to the door below, pausing to check ahead and make sure she wasn't running into another hound in the lower corridor. Her hip stung suddenly, making her jump. She looked down, but she knew it wasn't her. Soul must have run into something. The spot throbbed. She slipped through the door and made quiet progress toward the library, raising her hand to her ear to flick it. A few seconds later, her ear stung again, once. He was okay.

She stuck her head into the library to scope it out before entering, ducking behind the librarian's desk. The clock said it was quarter past, which meant she still had twenty-five minutes to avoid capture in order to get the prize. 

A crash across the room made her jolt, and in a rush, she crammed herself into the space under the desk, pulling the wheeled chair in after her. Lucky she was so small. She heard shouting and laughing as at least three people sprinted through the room, doing a lap before bursting through the doors she just came through and leaving the library serene once more. 

Under normal circumstances, it would be a reasonable strategy to just hide here, since technically she wasn't shut in a cupboard or anything. However, the circumstances were a little different, considering one of the participants was a demonic entity that could sniff her out like a bloodhound.

Taking care not to make noise with the desk chair, she crawled out of her hiding place and kept low, ducking through the rows of study tables until she got to the shelves beyond. She slipped into a nonfiction aisle and checked once more behind her to make sure she wasn't followed. Then she turned, just in time to spot a hound she didn't know turn the corner into the other end of the aisle and spot her. Without waiting another moment, Maka turned on her heel and ran the way she came, straight through the study tables.

She heard the hound shout and give chase, so she began to weave between the tables, turning her path from the door she came in from, to a door on the adjacent wall of the library. At the perimeter of the table area, there was a low wall that divided the rest of the library from the entry areas, standing about shoulder height. If she had continued her original path, she would have made it through the gap in this wall that led people past the desk. However, her new trajectory took her straight to the wall. With a grunt, she planted her foot on an untucked chair, then the next on the table beside it. She planted her hands on the top of the wall and heaved, lifting her knees toward her chest as she bunny-hopped over the wall, landing heavily on the other side.

Her ankles complained with a sting, but she was only impaired for a few moments from the jolt of the fall before she was running at full speed again. It didn't matter though, because the hound hadn't played her game, and had gone around the wall instead, costing them valuable distance. She burst through the door, into the corridor beyond, and went immediately right. Her ear stung suddenly, and amongst the fog of her adrenaline it took her a second to realize that it was Soul. She flicked her ear and kept running, turning left to a main corridor. It was a risky choice, but the other options were a no through road, or the hound still chasing her.

Luckily, it was only about sixty feet to the next stairwell. A clock hung inside a classroom, and as she passed, she paused to see the time read twenty-two past. Eighteen minutes left. She ducked into the stairwell and climbed two flights of stairs to the third level. She counted on most people not wanting to climb so high when they had been running so long. At the top, with her pursuer now out of her line of sight, she took a right and rounded a corner immediately, then crammed herself into a closed doorway, hiding from view in the main corridor. 

She heard sneakers squeal to a stop at the top of the landing, a moment of hesitation. It felt as through the whole hall held its breath. Then, they faded. The person had turned left, moving away from her.

Maka resumed a walking pace now, taking the time to catch her breath. There might be 90 participants, but the school was huge, with far more rooms than were even used for teaching. Some parts of the wings were rented out as independent labs just to use the space. 

She stopped at a water fountain and took a few sips of water. She couldn't gulp it or she would end up with a cramp, but it was nice to ease her throat a bit. She caught her reflection in a row of windows that provided a view into the classroom beyond, and quickly fixed her disheveled hair. She looked a mess from running, but the sports tank she wore hung loose on her flat chest, and she frowned at how boyish she looked. She always put her hair in girlish twin tails to make up for this, but really Maka was still holding out hope that she was just a late bloomer. It would have been nice to have a mother to pose these sorts of questions to. 

She turned away from her reflection to keep moving, keeping an eye on the time. Thirteen minutes. Just thirteen minutes. It took her another two minutes to make her way to another stairwell. This one, however, was a main stairwell, carved and sitting proud. She tried to be as quiet as possible as she heard people shouting and running two floors below. Eventually their shouts echoed into the distance.

Then, the oddest thing happened. She felt a tug in her gut, that felt vaguely familiar. Like something she had subconsciously felt before, but never really acknowledged. And when the hair on the back of her neck stood up, she concluded that if she was feeling something odd, it was probably Soul's fault. And sure enough, when she turned to the top of the stairs where she had just come from, she saw Soul with his saw-toothed grin plastered across his face. 

"Told ya," he called down the stairwell. Maka gripped the railing, already on her toes.  
"Don't get cocky yet," she called back, plastering on her sweetest smile. "You've still got to catch me!" Then she turned to run down the stairs, except BlackStar stood at the bottom, a finger pointing right at her.  
"Prepare to die, prey!" He announced with a gusto that Maka elected to ignore, in favor of running like hell down the middle level corridor. Both of them gave chase, their footsteps converging on the middle landing, but she focused on her own feet. 

She was now heading directly for the front of the school. A risky move, since the closer she got to the starting point, the higher the concentration of hounds would be. She hadn't been thinking, but there was no use worrying about it now. BlackStar whooped and she heard sneakers squeaking. Soul and BlackStar were probably shoving each other, since BlackStar was notoriously the worst shover on the Night Hunt.

Maka rounded a corner, and slowing to do so nearly allowed the two behind her to catch up. Soul pushed BlackStar into the wall, and the thud caught Maka's attention, just in time for her to dodge a swipe from Soul. For a moment, she reflected on how much she had been missing out on, being a hound in all her previous years. She let out a whoop of laughter, her hair flapping behind her.

They chased her downstairs again as she hopped over railings in the stairwell, nearly dove into Kid in a maneuver to tangle Soul and BlackStar with him, slid over benches and under tables, and ran through classrooms, all in attempts to shake them. Eventually she ended up at the middle floor again, and she was starting to get tired. BlackStar seemed to be too, but Soul wasn't so easily affected. She knew she had to shake them fast. She rounded another corner a little slower than she could have, this time watching out for attacks.

She looked over her shoulder, and saw BlackStar lunge. Soul began to follow. Maka saw her chance, and dove to the side and slightly backwards, toward them. The three of them fell away from each other and all over the hallway. Soul was currently tangled with BlackStar, and each was swearing at the other. Maka took the opportunity to run for it, back the way they had come. "See you later, boys!" She teased, unable to stop grinning. It was hard not to feel accomplished, outrunning a demon and all. She turned the nearest corner, since breaking the line of sight was the first step in losing a shadow. It would help for a little while, just until she worked out a more permanent solution to her Soul problem.

Maka was now in a smaller hallway, which led past some history classrooms to another corner that ran along the lecture halls. A light bulb flared to life in her head. The lecture halls! They had multiple entries, and therefore, multiple exits. It wouldn't buy her heaps of time, but it would hopefully be enough. 

She entered one at random, and saw an empty room gaping before her. There was an air curtain at the door, since the lecture halls were air conditioned, and the fans blew her hair around her face. She shut the door behind her, though that wouldn't stop Soul. She had been running and sweating all evening, so it would be hard to avoid his nose now, especially since she had just walked under a fan. If only she could make a decoy...

Maka paused and looked over her shoulder at the air curtain. It was a unit that blew air in the entryway, presumably to keep the cold air in when the door was open. The door across the hall had one as well. Maka smiled and, knowing she had very little time before Soul and BlackStar arrived, sprinted across the room, pulling her shirt over her head. She felt self-conscious, but at least she was wearing a sports crop under it. Lots of people had been wearing just crops earlier. Totally normal. Or so she kept telling herself, just to ease the anxiety of wearing less clothes than she was usually comfortable with. 

When she got to the opposite door, she flung it open to make it look as though she went that way. Except she didn't. She dragged a loose chair over to stand on, reached up on her toes to the air curtain, and pried the plastic grill open. Inside there was about three inches of space before another inner grill. She stuffed her shirt inside, spreading it out as much as possible so the air would flow past it. After re-fitting the grill, she stepped down and pushed the chair to the side of the door. 

She took a moment to inspect her handiwork, instinctually moving to smooth her shirt down before remembering she was no longer wearing one. "This better be worth it," she grumbled, to nobody in particular, and made her way up the vast stairs at the side of the lecture hall, which led to the upper level seats. When she was nearly at the top, she crammed into the aisle of seats and crouched down low, peeking the clock at the front of the room. She pressed her lips together, brimming with anticipation as she realized it was thirty-seven minutes into the hour, and she need only avoid capture for three more minutes before she was a winner. She looked around, spotting a camera at the upper corner, pointing toward the front. At least she could put herself in frame and document her success when time was up.

It took Soul, with BlackStar ranting and stomping in tow, another ninety seconds to enter the room. Apparently she was counting now. She ducked down even further, her heart beating in her ears, as she watched them walk cautiously into the room. Soul seemed to still, his eyes scanning over the rows of seats, until BlackStar shouted and pointed at the open door, running for it. And bless his heart, his sudden move had Soul giving chase, apparently convinced. Maybe her shirt trick helped. She'd have to ask later.

Soul and BlackStar disappeared, moving to check the next lecture hall. Maka held her breath. Less than a minute. She heard shouting as someone ran past in the hall outside, and she felt an adrenaline that wasn't hers. If she had to guess, she would say that Soul and BlackStar had found another fox hiding in the next hall. What were the chances? 

After what felt like years, not seconds, the school bell rang, and an announcer over the PA declared that the Night Hunt was officially over, and all participants were to make their way safely to the food hall for a head count and score tally. Maka grinned and stood, stretching her arms over her head. She had done it!!! She couldn't wait to gloat to Soul, who had tried so hard to catch her. 

She made her way to the top of the stairs at the back of the room. The camera was mounted here, above a door that led to an upstairs hallway. Maka stood on a seat in the last row and waved to the camera, giving it a thumbs up. Just in case. The blinking red light on the camera seemed to be grinning with her, flashing every second. But as she moved to stop down, the light suddenly stopped blinking. Maka squinted at it, but she assumed that it was fine. Maybe the light broke? There was probably more than enough evidence that she hadn't been tagged, and besides, she still had her bandana.

With nothing more to do except claim her prize, she stepped down out of the camera's view and approached the door below it. But the door handle wouldn't move when she tried it. At first, she thought it was locked, but then she saw two shadows in the light under the door. The lecture hall was dimly lit, so it was clear as day that the shadows were legs on the other side.

"Very funny, Soul. Quit being a sore loser and let me through!" She called, banging on the door with her fist. When Soul didn't respond, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, be a child, I'll just go downstairs," she said, sticking her tongue out at the door. He couldn't see it but it felt good anyway. She turned and began down the stairs, except she barely got two steps before she felt a rush of air as the door opened. "Oh, so--"

A hand grabbed the back strap of her crop, and she barely had time to cry out before she was thrown back onto the carpet at the back of the lecture hall. The door slammed, and a complete stranger loomed above her. He was tall, male, and his bare arms were sinewy. His sandy coloured hair stuck out at angles. He should have been attractive, but the look in his eye... it made her blood curdle, and a primal fear rose into her throat in a scream that never came, because he kicked the air out of her lungs.

Maka coughed and rolled away to avoid a second blow to the stomach, scrambling to her feet. Her eyes watered, and she had to vault a row of chairs to avoid his grasping hands. "What is your problem! The game is over!" She cried out, but something told her he wasn't there for the game. He just vaulted the seats as well, his gaze never leaving her as he strode along the aisle of seats towards her. So Maka, once again, ran like hell. Except this time it felt way too real.

She turned and made her way to the end of the row, running way too fast down the steps to the front of the lecture hall. By some miracle, she didn't roll her ankle, but it didn't matter. Because as soon as she got to the bottom, her pursuer had pounced, knocking her to the ground with a tackle. 

Maka screamed and rolled over, lashing out with her feet to land a kick on his chin. A kick that hard should have cracked teeth, but he continued on his progress with barely a flinch, pinning each of her arms down as she scratched at his face. He planted a knee on each wrist, sitting on her ribcage, suffocating her. Her breath left faster than she could draw it in again, and her legs kicked uselessly as he calmly reached into his pocket and drew out something long and sharp. A syringe, filled with a translucent, pale blue liquid. He pulled the cap off, and a droplet of the liquid leaked out the end.

"What the fuck--" she choked, her words nearly silent and breathless as she strained as hard as she could to break free, to no avail. "What the fuck is that!?"  
"Someone thinks you might've seen somethin' you shouldn't have. So just in case, you're gonna take a nice nap to forget," he drawled. He had a hunger in his eyes, and his hands shook slightly as he took a hold of her right pigtail, tugging it painfully up above her head to force her to crane her neck to the side. He held up the needle, his eyes on the skin of her neck. "It's too bad. Another couple years, and I might've--"

He was cut off as a door slammed open and, almost in the same heartbeat, the man on top her was thrown violently aside and into the solid wood speaking podium at the front of the room. Maka gasped for air and clung to the person who sat her up and lifted her by the waist against his hip. His scent was instantly familiar. It took her a second to realize he'd been talking to her.

"What?" She croaked, still breathless and dizzy, her fingers sinking into his jacket.  
"Did he hurt you?" He repeated, shaking her slightly.  
Maka blinked, confused and unsure how to answer. After all, Soul knew exactly how hurt she was, he didn't need to ask, and yet he asked anyway. He interrupted her before she could think of something helpful to say.  
"Fuck it. Either way, he's about to die," Soul spat with venom, and gently set her down on the floor. Before she could manage a word to stop him, his scythe appeared in his hand and he lunged for the man, who threw the syringe aside and raised his arms, blocking the blade with... A chain. Which had appeared out of nowhere.

Maka scrambled to her feet and moved to the side of the room for cover as, almost faster than she could follow, Soul and the man began to fight. Soul would swing and the man would block, a horrible scowl on his face. The idiot had summoned his blade, not only in plain sight of another person, but also in plain sight of the camera. She looked up at it, ready to meet it's red blinking gaze, but then it dawned on her that the blinking had gone out. Seconds before her attacker arrived. And he was apparently here on someone's orders. Someone with the power to cut off the cameras... 

Her stomach dropped to her toes as it dawned on her that she was potentially in far deeper than she thought. And now they had a witness who would leave this room with the knowledge that Soul was something other than human.

Her attention was brought back to the fight as Soul was thrown into the air, landing in the seats. Maka felt a throb of pain in her ribs and nearly cried out as she watched. The attacker followed, leaping easily over the chairs to pick Soul up by his collar and slam his head into the back of the chair next to him. Maka's head reeled with his and she groaned, holding her temples as they throbbed. 

"Oh, no way this guy's human," laughed the man, and he went to pick up Soul again. But this time, Soul kicked him in the knee, bracing his back against the chair. The man bellowed in agony and Soul sliced at him, slicing a few hairs as the man narrowly avoided decapitation. "You're even more in for it than I thought, girlie," he taunted Maka. "Just wait until they hear this one," he laughed, swinging his chain as he watched Soul approach.

But Maka had other plans. The needle, the one he said would make her forget... It was still on the ground. She ran over and snatched it up while Soul and the man fought. A sudden revving sound caught her attention as she crouched on the ground, and she looked up to see something.... Confusing. The man was holding a chainsaw. 

"Where did that come from!?" Maka cried out, standing up, careful to keep the sharp end of the syringe away from her skin.  
"He's a demon, Maka," Soul grunted, straining from the effort of blocking an overhead swing from the weapon.  
"I thought she was 'sposed to be smart," laughed the demon cruelly.  
"Smarter than you, pindick," Soul huffed as he swung, forcing the man to retreat into the aisle of stairs at the side.  
"Someone's sensitive," was the demon's retort. "Would be a shame if someone--"

Maka had no time to react as a chain shot toward her and wrapped around her leg, which was yanked out from under her. She fell to the ground hard and her head throbbed where it hit the carpet. Soul reeled, groaning in the pain of her fall and trying his best to cover it. Then, something bit as a whip of another chain cut Soul's cheek. 

The man was at Maka's side in an instant, planting a foot on her neck and holding his chainsaw up to her face, meeting Soul's eyes. "Not another muscle, or she loses her face." Soul paused, tense all over. He glared death at the man, and Maka tightened her grip. She had one shot. "I haven't fought another demon in a long time," grinned the man. "I am so getting a raise." He chuckled, and the saw drifted away from Maka's face slightly. This was her chance. 

As suddenly as she could, she lifted her arm and stabbed the needle into the demon's calf, pushing all the liquid into him before he realised what had happened. He stumbled back, straining to see what she had done, but by the time the realisation dawned on his face, he faltered and fell unconscious onto the floor. His saw disappeared into thin air, and Maka lifted herself to her feet carefully, almost afraid that sudden moves would wake him.

"Lucky that actually worked on him, huh?" She laughed nervously, looking over at Soul. But he wasn't listening. He was marching over to the unconscious demon, scythe in hand. She didn't realise his intent until he steadied the weapon under the demon's chin. "What are you doing!?" She cried, stepping forward.  
"Sending him back where he came from," Soul growled, not taking his eyes off his target.  
"But what about his... Person? Someone summoned him, right? So he must be attached to someone!!"  
"Not my concern," Soul shrugged.  
"You can't just kill someone. He was following orders--"

"He wasn't just following orders!" Soul snapped. "He was relishing them. I touched his skin, and I felt his intent. You just don't get it Maka. I felt it," he didn't take his eyes off the man, but his hand shook as he kept his weapon steady. "It was disgusting and unforgivable. I will never, ever be able to wash my mind clean of what was going on in his head," he spat, looking down at the demon with unbridled vitriol. "This demon has an uncontrollable bloodlust. He is a demon of rage, torture and revenge. I won't let him continue to exist, and I don't want to know the human who needed such a demon so badly that they were able to summon one as their bond."

Maka pressed her lips together. Soul was right. They couldn't risk it, and if they sent him back to hell, maybe they would find out which exorcist not only knew how to summon, but also wanted her dead. Soul's disgust was so strong that even she felt it, and it took a lot to sway his relaxed demeanor. Whatever he had seen, it had shaken him. "Okay," she sighed, resigned. "I trust you."  
He glanced at her with an odd look in his eye, his gaze lingering for a moment, then he swung. Maka covered her eyes, but she needn't have -- when she looked up, not a trace of the demon remained. 

"We need to pretend like this never happened," Maka resolved, though she only felt tired. "And we need to watch our backs. Someone in this school knows that I know something. I'm guessing someone who knows Chiro's book saw us with it."  
"Well they would have just dissolved with their demon, wouldn't they?" Soul shrugged.  
"Unless they aren't working alone. We need to find Victor, and maybe his descendants. We must get to the bottom of this." Maka felt a newfound resolve, and got up off the floor. "The weirder things get, the more sure I am that something big is going on here. But for now, we need to get to the cafeteria and pretend nothing is amiss. Pokerface. Got it?"

Soul looked at her for a long moment, his scythe disappearing from his hand. "Got it. Are you okay?"  
Maka smiled, despite her tension. "I don't know why you ask when you already know the answer."  
He shrugged, avoiding her gaze suddenly. "Also, where the fuck is your shirt?"

Maka felt her nose go so hot that she was amazed it didn't melt off her face. "Um, it's a long story. I-- just never mind," she stammered, running to the air curtain where she stashed her shirt. She retrieved it, pulling it over her head. After having cold air blown on it, the cold fabric was fresh against her skin.  
Soul watched her with raised eyebrows. "I won't ask."

They walked the whole way back in silence. They were tense, but not with each other, so it was oddly companionable. Soul spent most of it glancing sidelong at her, thinking she didn't know he was doing it. Maka didn't say anything. She just wondered how she would close her eyes at night when the crazed, murderous eyes of that demon seemed to recall every time she blinked. Even thinking about them now brought the memory back.

Involuntarily, Maka shuddered.


	11. Sleepless Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter here! I just wanted to drop a bit of Soul's perspective before we move on, since the last chapter was a bit heavy.

Soul had been on earth for weeks, riding a wave of new discoveries and fresh experiences, half of which were not even his own. For all that time, he had slowly come to understand humans and their world.... or so he thought, until a new experience smacked him in the face, surprising him once again.

Up until now, those surprises -- be they his own, or residual from Maka -- had been his favourite part about his foray into the human realm: The first time he ever ate food; The time he nearly saw Blair's tits; The pure, unadulterated, unbridled awe that he felt from Maka when he had played the piano in that tiny bar; their shared thrill as they sprinted around the halls of her school. But nothing could have prepared him for how both he and Maka felt right now. She had asked to be alone, so he was sitting on the sofa at 2am, feeling his fury and her fear spiral off one another, knowing she was awake even though she hadn't moved in the darkness for hours, but unable to help her. He couldn't even help himself.

His thoughts returned again and again to the demon from earlier. He and Maka had collected her prize, and she had even plastered on a smile, but he felt her stress bouncing off his own. That was the thing about their bond: their feelings ricocheted off each other. Became more prominent, and harder to ignore. And Maka being attacked by an unknown demon was huge. Especially since, like Soul, he had properly crossed. Which meant someone let him in. But something about the demon seemed off, something Soul could feel bit couldn't place. It was like the answer hovered out of his reach, and that made him even more frustrated than he already was.

Soul wished that demon hadn't been a demon. Never before had he wanted someone to bleed so badly. And he could tell himself as much as he liked that he was mad because the demon had threatened Soul's life by proxy of Maka. He could lie, say that every fucked up, horrid, violent idea that bounced around in that demon's head was horrifying because Soul would have felt that torture too. That didn't change the truth; His own mortality had been the last thing on his mind when he had taken in the scene of a man with a massive needle, straddling Soul's pinned, shirtless, struggling.... Partner? What was he even supposed to call her? His person? That made him sound like a dog. He absently picked up the remote and tossed it across the sofa cushions. He didn't know anything anymore, except a cancerous disquiet at his very core.

It was nearly 3 when Maka opened her door. She smelled different when she was tired. Warmer, in a way. Her undereyes were baggy and she gripped the hem of her shirt as she settled down next to him on the sofa, so close their legs touched. She drew her knees to her chest, her eyes on the wall ahead of her. It seemed almost like she would say something, but there was nothing she could say that would elaborate on what he already felt through their bond, and vice versa. She simply sat and rested her forehead on her knees, her loose hair hiding her face.

He was in the middle of thinking of something to say when a quiet snore interrupted his train of thought. She had fallen asleep in a matter of seconds. The wave of calm after hours of turmoil made Soul wish he could fall asleep. She seemed so peaceful, and he had to admit it sounded kind of nice to take a break from the world for a few hours.

While his anger wasn't cured, it certainly ebbed as, while the hours ticked slowly towards dawn, Maka gradually slid to lean against his side, her head lulling onto his collar. He could have shrugged her off, but instead he reached for the remote, straining to reach it without disturbing her, and watched hours of tennis on mute. It was annoying not to have sound, but it was all in French anyway.

The sun was a vague purple hint on the horizon when Maka stirred, blinking her big green eyes at him slowly. She didn't say anything though. Soul didn't even know if she woke up properly. She just scooted over on the sofa and laid down to curl up, her head on his knee, drifting back into her slumber almost instantly.

 _'She will be the death of you,'_ a little voice in his head reminded him. _'You don't belong here. She is searching for a way to banish you from her life because of it. In a week she will find the answer, and suddenly you won't know each other anymore. Or whoever sent that demon will send more, until she succumbs to her mortality and drags you down with her.'_

These nagging thoughts swirled his head, reminding him of every reason why he was playing with fire, letting her get so close. Letting her draw him so close. He hadn't died, because she had survived the attack... and yet he still cared about what happened beyond his own mortality. He was mad on her behalf, not his own. It defied logic, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, except watch TV and hope it went away before things got too complicated to ignore.

 


	12. Den of Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your feedback! It really keeps me going to know people are enjoying what I'm writing. It truly means a lot xoxo

Maka straightened her skirt for the eightieth time, but it didn't help to stifle the feeling that she was being watched. In the great marble halls of the vast exorcist council offices, it felt as though every shadow hid a pair of eyes. 

The person who had tried to drug her and erase her memory could well be as far up as the council itself. And like an idiot, she had brought a demon into their midst. Which didn't sound so bad, except this demon's existence in this realm was exclusively tied with her own. No pressure.

She should have made him stay home, but he had insisted upon coming along. He had been quiet and withdrawn since the Night Hunt incident. Maka had been on edge herself, but she needed to move forward. Someone here would have information on Chiro Cascade's mysterious descendants. She just had to figure out how to get it without arousing suspicions. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting," huffed a curiously grey-haired young woman breathlessly, as she scurried into the room. "Is everyone here?"  
"Looks like it," called someone from the back. The small cluster of night hunt victors gathered in the hall near Maka, some of them with the plus-one that the winning ticket provided them. Others probably couldn't convince anyone to come along. 

They were led down a long hall, lined with old ink paintings of terrible creatures. All were famous demons. Eldritch horrors, frightful oni, and something called a 'bunyip' were all displayed. Most seemed to have a commonality though: they were humanoid. Had a person with thoughts and feelings been hiding in each of those bodies? Her mind flashed back to the night she met Soul. He had been inhumanly tall, gaunt and oddly angled, with unnatural objects protruding from his person. She never would have stopped to consider whether he was a person, if circumstances hadn't been what the were. She had run for her life that night.

"Oh shit, it's Bert," Soul stopped short at a painting and chuckled, then turned to Maka. "Get a picture. He's gonna be so stoked when I tell him he made the wall."  
Maka balked. "You're messing with me."  
"No, but that would have been hilarious. Come on, they're moving on without us."  
Maka sighed, making sure to express her exasperation to him with a withering look as she pulled out her phone and raised it to take a picture.  
"No -- the fuck--" Soul rolled his eyes and took her by the sleeve, dragging her next to him. "Get in the damn picture."  
Maka's face went hot and she stepped away. "Um. Why?"  
"Do you go to the aquarium and take pictures against a wall without any fish in them?" He raised his eyebrows.  
"Comparing me to exhibited animals is winning you no favors, Soul," she huffed, but stepped next to him anyway. He slung an arm lazily over her shoulder, and pointed over his own shoulder with his thumb to the painting behind them. Maka smiled, raised her phone, and took a few pictures.

Soul, seeming satisfied, clapped her on the shoulder and sauntered off down the hall.  
"You're welcome," Maka called out after him, following him down the hall to catch up with their tour group.

They were taken to the archives first. Maka had high hopes for this room... Up until they actually entered. Turns out that the archive was mostly for art and legal documents. They got to see more paintings, all stored in humidity-controlled drawers. The tour guide took them down the aisles, listing each one. Until she hit "census records". That made Maka stop short.

The group passed her, and she pretended to be checking a text. A quick glance around told her nobody was here... For now. The rest of the group walked on, and she spotted Soul's shock of with hair over the crowd. Maka slipped into the aisle and worked quickly, knowing she didn't have long.

It was easy to find Cascade in the alphabet. But even though it was an usual surname, she had to sort through eight different families. Not a single one had a Chiro or a Victor. Some were missing entire generations inexplicably. Others hit a dead end. Frustrated and running quickly out of time, she knelt on the floor and quickly snapped a photo of each document, doing her best to keep the faded text clear. As she was gathering up the papers, a sound behind her made her jump. 

"Soul!" Maka hissed, slumping into the wall of the aisle. "Don't sneak up like that."  
"Don't sneak off like that," was his retort. "What'd you get?"  
Maka gathered the papers neatly and put them carefully back in their drawer, before answering. She strode toward Soul and took his arm, steering him on a brisk path to catch up with their tour group. "Census data and compiled family trees of all families with the name "Cascade". Some info is missing, but it's our best bet yet. If Chiro's family are still around and known to the Exorcists, we might be able to find them," she whispered, showing him the pictures of the documents. "But I couldn't find Chiro or Victor."  
"If someone is covering this whole thing up, it makes sense that they might have pulled those names from official records," he reminded her. "We could be getting warmer, right?"  
Maka took a deep breath and nodded. "Maybe!" She wasn't sure, but she couldn't lose hope. If that demon had been sent to attack her because of Soul, would sending him home get them off her tail? Would she be safer without him? It was getting harder and harder to imagine so. 

Or maybe the attack was unrelated to Soul. Maybe it was Chiro's book and they thought she was trying to summon a demon, not send one back? It didn't seem to make sense... Why wait so long to attack her for the book? She'd had it for weeks now. Was there something else she was missing? 

When the caught up to the tour group, they were at the start of a hall on the other end of the records room, leading into what the guide declared to be "office spaces." They toured along, sticking their heads in to greet minor council workers, whose job it was, among other things, to assign cases to working exorcists and manage calls. It was during this distraction that Maka didn't notice, at one point, a door beside her opening. That was, until the woman who had opened it collided with Maka.

The beginning of a apology glittered across the woman's lips before she tensed, fixing Maka with an almost snake-like gaze. 

"Councilwoman Medusa," smiled the tour guide nervously, drawing her gaze from Maka, thankfully. She couldn't figure out why the gaze unsettled her so, until it hit her:

It was Medusa she had seen skulking in the gardens the night of the Hunt. The night Maka had been attacked from some unknown indiscretion. Maka had assumed the attack was because of Soul, or Chiro's book. But what if Maka had seen -- or almost seen -- the councilwoman doing something she didn't want anyone to know about? Something that required her to sneak about school grounds at night. That gaze from a moment ago, like a predator looks at its prey, all but confirmed it.

Maka tried to glance at Soul as the councilwoman conversed with the guide, but he was gazing over Medusa's shoulder, seemingly lost in space until he met her eyes and pointed, ever so subtly, to the back of the room. 

Behind the mahogany writing desk stood a glass cabinet book shelf, lined with what could only be a collection of rare and old volumes. For a moment, Maka was unsure of what he could possibly be pointing at, when she saw it: a tome that stood out from its short and stout spine and royal blue cover. "Summoning," the title seemed to scream at her, calling from the confusion.

As quickly as Maka had seen it, Medusa swung her door shut behind her, plastering on a pleasant smile. But it wasn't pleasant. Things were being hidden, covered up. And the answers were in that book. The book Medusa had used to summon a demon and have it attack Maka.... Or had she? Soul had banished that demon. And yet here stood the councilwoman. Did someone else do it? Maka hadn't heard of anyone going missing in the last few days, but someone was attached to that demon. How else could it have gotten there?

Frustratingly, all this seemed to raise more questions than it answered. 

The councilwoman didn't look at Maka again before she left. She only locked her door, addressed the group in a short congratulations on their victory in the Night Hunt, and left without another word.

Soul stepped up beside her. She didn't see him, but she knew it was him anyway. "Did you see--"  
"I saw," she told him in a whisper, giving him a serious look. "And there is more. But not here," she breathed. Soul opened his mouth to say something else, questions in his eyes. He didn't yet know that the council itself might certainly be involved in her attack, because Maka herself had only pieced it together just now. She found herself hyper aware of how deep in a wolf den they might be standing, physically, at that moment. To stop him from speaking, she snatched his hand and squeezed it. Not hard, but enough to get his attention. "Not. Here."

His expression was serious, but his face lit up like a stop light, and Maka felt suddenly.... Giddy. Like she might vomit, or a hamster was using her stomach as an exercise ball. Quickly but casually, she let go of his hand and kept walking. That was a feeling she did not care to explore right now. Especially when they were in potential danger, and she didn't even know if it was his feeling or her own. They tended to blur together. 

Maka contemplated her options. Every instinct told her to run, but doing so would draw attention. If she wanted to send Soul home, she would need to get her hands on that book.... But it wouldn't be happening today, on this trip. For now, they had leads to follow -- Chiro's family. If they found a descendant, maybe they would have answers as to why her work was hidden. 

Maka glanced again at Medusa's office door. An uneasy feeling had overtaken her, like she was being watched. Like she was drowning in oil. Someone had already tried to hurt her. Was getting too deep a mistake? Was it too late?

Maka realised that her hand was still clamping Soul's and moved away carefully, following the tour group. Soul followed, and she could feel he was troubled. So was she. But the tour group moved through various rooms, including the council chambers, without incident. Nobody jumped them, no guards came. They did not see Medusa again. 

It wasn't until they were safely home that Maka dared to speak of what they had both seen in Medusa's office.

"She knows about summoning," Soul declared, perhaps sensing her about to breach the subject. "She had a book."  
"I know! I didn't want to believe it but.... I just don't understand. Why cover something like this up?" Maka contemplated aloud, gesturing between the two of them.   
"There is something about her. I can't....." Soul slumped against the kitchen counter, the heel of his palm pressed against his forehead. "It's this stupid brain block. I feel as though I'm missing something crucial."  
"Something about Medusa?" Maka asked, stepping forward. "Like what? Is she a demon?"  
"No. Not a demon. But she's not like you either. Not like Blair or Blackstar or that weird classmate who asked if I was homeless. Something is different."  
Maka scoured her brain for insight, but she wasn't able to come up with anything insightful. "Maybe she is just more powerful."

Soul sighed and crossed the room to slump onto the sofa. "Maybe. Sorry. I should be more reliable."  
Maka pressed her lips together. He seemed so lost and purposeless. He felt he was a failure, and she didn't need a magical bond to tell. The beginnings of an idea tickled her brain. "I'm doing a hell of a lot better than if I didn't have you," she finally admitted, folding her arms over the back of the sofa. "Don't get all mopey on me, they might send more demons for me yet."  
"Not saying I want them to," he defended, "but it would certainly make things more interesting for me if they did."

"Actually, I need to duck out to the public library for an hour or so," she blurted suddenly. "Sorry to make your boredom worse, but I'm going alone."  
Soul sat up to prop himself on his elbow. "No way. You'd last three minutes if you got--"  
"I was managing perfectly fine on my own before you showed up," she replied quickly. "I just need time to concentrate, and it's not like you'll do any reading. Besides, I have a more important job for you," she announced.  
Soul narrowed his eyes. "Oh, and what's that?"  
"Do the dishes," she grinned, blowing him a kiss.

She listened to him grumble as she put her shoes back on, preparing to head to the library to search public archives for her potential Chiro relatives. Soul was already in the kitchen when she was ready to go, filling the basin. 

"Hey Soul," Maka asked suddenly, pausing with the door ajar. "Aren't you afraid to be my friend?"  
Soul stopped, his hands frozen mid-scrun of a plate, and he threw her the most bewildered look. "Why would I be afraid of something like that?"  
Maka's knuckles flushed white as she gripped the doorknob, and she forced a shrug. "You're going to live forever. You'll see the death of every human you will ever know, including mine."  
Soul regarded her with a strange look and an even stranger feeling, like he was holding a mug of warm coffee on a cold day. She knew the feeling wasn't hers, but that explanation didn't help to disperse her confusion. "Death is not something demons are afraid of, Maka. Loneliness is, because a lonely demon wishes he were dead, but he cannot die."

Maka stared at him for a long moment, wrestling with that. The truth was, Soul would outlive her. She would be a speck in the timeline of his life eventually, blurred with every other soul who would come and go to keep him company in his endless life. Looking at him, it was hard to imagine that he might well see the year 3000. That he would be alive for her 1000th birthday but she would be so distant by that point that he wouldn't even register the significance from any other day. This grim reality withdrew a small part of her. She felt it retreat into its shell, tucking neatly away where it belonged. An understanding. A resignation.

But at the same time, she appreciated him. He was just a lost demon doing his best. Even if he eventually forgot, she would always remember. And she would be able to say she tried to find answers for her fellow exorcists and Soul's fellow demons. If loneliness was what demons feared, she would be happy if she could find a way to bring them new company. And the answers were with Chiro's descendants... And Medusa's bookcase.

Maka glanced at Soul again, looking bored as he resumed scrubbing. That tingle of an idea from earlier called again, and she tightened her grip on her bag. "I'll see you soon. Try not to burn down the house while I'm gone, okay?"  
Soul pulled a face at her, and she shut the door on it, laughing to herself. 

Her life may be short, but she was still allowed to have a bit of fun while she was at it. Soul had eternity to get over her teasing. He'd be okay.


	13. To Whom They Answer

Soul was starting to get the feeling that Maka was avoiding him.

All week after school, Maka had been scouring local records and libraries for the family trees she found at the council archive. Naturally, she had insisted upon using non-exorcist resources. It was probably smart to avoid detection from the people hiding demon summoning tomes in their fancy offices, especially when one was snooping into stolen information. Soul hadn’t asked about her success, figuring she would let him know when she had found anything important. However, it was now Sunday at noon and Maka had barely been home all weekend. Soul’s patience was notoriously thin, and now he was at critical boredom mass.

“Where’s Maka?” Blair suddenly asked, making him jump. She always seemed to approach more quietly than was humanly possible. Even Soul’s good ears didn’t pick up on her half the time. “At the library again?”  
“Yeah,” Soul sighed. “Something like that.” He and Maka had agreed not to disclose more info than was necessary when it came to Blair. “We’re trying to track down someone who knows about… uh…. basketball. The info we need is in a book but the book isn’t being loaned.”  
Blair snorted. “Mmhm. Well, why don’t you just take the book? Better to ask forgiveness than permission, right? Plus, what’s the point in a book nobody is allowed to read? Weird.” With a shrug, she wandered into the kitchen.   
“I can’t just steal shit, Blair,” Soul reminded her. Hard to believe that he was the demon in this scenario. “Someone would notice.”  
“Just put a different book in its place. All books look the same, right? Have you seen my yoghurt?” Blair’s head was just about inside the fridge.   
“Top shelf,” Soul called absently, drumming his fingers on his leg. 

He could do it. He could steal the book. It was a Sunday. Executive humans don’t work on Sundays. The council would have administration staff at most. Medusa would surely not be there. All he would need to do is find a way in that wasn’t the front door and bust a few locks. Easy, right? The more he thought about it, the better it got. Imagine Maka’s surprise when she came home and all the answers were in a book on her coffee table. They weren’t getting that book any other way, and Maka would never do it. Sure, she’d be mad, but it’d be in their best interests. Blair said it: it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission.

Soul waited until Blair was back in her room before digging into his closet. He didn’t have a lot, so he moved to Maka’s. He was aiming for a coat or something, and ended up with a threadbare black hoodie that was oversized even on Soul. He held it up with a raised eyebrow, wondering how the hell Maka expected to fit into it. Still, it would do. He pulled it on over his dark jeans and white t-shirt, pulling up the hood. He used his headband to pull his hair out of view under the hood. He also emptied Maka’s schoolbag and went to her bookshelf.

This was the tricky part: finding a replacement. It had to be similar in size and color, but Maka loved her books. She would flip if Soul lost anything important. Maybe she kept the junk somewhere tucked away. He remembered some plastic boxes up the top of her closet and reached up to pull a few down, sitting among them and opining the lids.

The first contained CDs and an old laptop with a cracked screen. The second was clothes. They had a woody, smoky scent that unmistakably belonged to a fire exorcist, but the scent wasn’t Maka’s. He found it kind of weird that she was keeping some other person’s clothes in her closet, but he let it go and checked the third box. This one looked promising: books. Most of them children’s’ books, but a dark green one with a thick spine stood out to him. It was similar enough at a glance to the summoning book. Carefully, he extracted it from the box, and was about to shove it in the bag when he thought to check if it was important. It was lucky he did, because the book wasn’t a book at all. It was a photo album.  
It smelled of mothballs, and the pages were yellowed. Soul flipped the first page open, and was struck (literally, in the ankle) by an image of a woman, as it slid from behind another photo and fell out of the book. At first, Soul thought it was Maka. The woman was beautiful, wearing a long white dress, with flowers in her hair. She had the same ashy blonde as Maka, and the same frame, and her nose. She could have been a woodland princess. But it wasn’t Maka. 

No other photos featured the woman. Most were photos of a baby that quickly proved to be Maka as Soul flicked through the pages. Some included a rust-haired, lanky man, but Maka never seemed happy in these. He knew that some transgression had caused her animosity towards the man known as Spirit, but Maka never went into the details, and Soul never pried. Well, until now. This would technically be classed as prying. Feeling guilty, but unwilling to drag himself away, he flicked on. 

It was a weird feeling. Maka had asked him about immortality a few days ago, but she had no idea. Soul didn’t have any of this. No goofy birthday photos, no childhood friends, no fathers to become estranged from. His existence was an interdimensional, timeless murmur that had no clear beginning, and only the faintest hint of conscious being before he was suddenly brought up to the surface by a girl running from a monster. Other demons were still floating around hell, content and able to just… be. But he didn’t have that anymore either. So what did he have?   
Not the thing he came in here for, he reminded himself. He tucked the album away, carefully replacing the almost-Maka lady behind a photo in the first sleeve. Deeper in the box, he found a few textbooks. Better. After a quick assessment, he decided one labelled ‘The Basics of Burning’ would be a good candidate. Hardback, dark cover, and Maka certainly didn’t need a book on the basics of fire exorcism. He checked inside anyway, just to make sure it wasn’t where she was hiding the vodka, then shoved it in her bag. As best he could, he re-packed the boxes and put them back where they belonged. 

Now armed with a backpack and a false book, he was ready. He opted to jump out Maka’s window, saving him the trip to the front door, past potential questions from Blair. It had been her idea, sure, but sometimes humans would say one thing and then mean another. He’d rather not have his resolve crushed by ‘did you think I was serious?’ or ‘I’m calling the police,’ or ‘how would you even get in?’  
To be honest, that last one was a fair question. Soul had no idea. He also had no idea how he would get the key, but crossing bridges as he came to them was a policy that had worked for him up until now. 

The council rooms looked different on the weekend. The buzz that had been there when he and Maka had visited were gone now. Soul knew that going in the front entrance was a dumbass idea, so he skirted. No side doors presented themselves, which struck him as a fire hazard. But it did push him to his conclusion: he would have to climb. 

And it seemed simple enough. A human would struggle, given the building ranged between three and five storeys. But Soul wasn’t a human. A section of the building that jutted out provided good cover from the front of the building, where most traffic would go. It might have been better to do this at night, but he expected that security was more relaxed in daylight than at night. He would have to risk it. So he got a foothold on the old stonework, and climbed.

His ascent was easy, given the ornate nature of the masonry. Embellishments and carvings were everywhere. Soul wasn’t familiar with the era, of course, but he had come to understand it was very old. Maka could probably tell him, once she was done killing him for what he was about to do.

Every window he came across was locked, to his dismay. As he reached the roof, he was starting to seriously question his decisions – but it didn’t last long. There, almost singing to him as it reflected the sunlight, was a skylight. It was closed, but it had a latch. Soul crept over, peering over carefully to check the hallway below. He didn’t recognise it from their tour, but at least it appeared deserted. He tried the latch, which was rusted fast and wouldn’t budge. Smashing the glass was an option, but it wouldn’t be the best idea in terms of getting in and out undetected. He leaned into it, the tiny metal hook biting his thumb, and it finally gave with a grunt. Brilliant. The glass had no way of keeping itself propped though, so Soul had to slide in awkwardly and let it fall shut once he let go. He hit the carpet and crouched, waiting and listening, but nothing stirred. He was in, undetected. He crept along the hall, keeping his hood up and staying close to the walls as he moved. He knew that he must be somewhere near Medusa’s office, but not on the correct floor. So there was nothing much else for it, except to move.  
Finding a stairwell was easy. Finding his bearings was more difficult than he could have anticipated. Nothing looked familiar. Granted, he hadn’t been exactly gulping in the views during their visit, but he was certain as he descended into a carpeted hallway with glass-doored offices that he hadn’t seen any of this before. Luckily, most of the offices seemed to be empty, but he tried to walk normally down the hall. Anyone working would probably not give him a second glance if he passed the corner of their eye as if he belonged there. 

At the end of the hall, he was about to climb down some stair again when his ears caught the sound of conversation. Aggravated conversation. The voices sounded familiar, but Soul couldn’t quite place why. The last door in the corridor was not glass, but wood. It was labelled “Upper conference room” and it was shut. With a glance over his shoulder, Soul carefully crept up to the door and pressed his ear to it, careful to keep his feet away from the gap to avoid shadows.

“—taking this seriously, I am more than happy to find someone else who will,” said a sharp, female voice. He immediately recognised her as Medusa – her tone was still fresh in his mind, and unmistakeable.   
“Well why don’t you take it up with the woman we both answer to, huh? See how well that one goes,” growled the second voice, a male. “I’m telling you. Something isn’t right.”  
“Hm. It is so like men to make up stories to shield their fragile ego,” dismissed Medusa. “There is no way that what you suggest is remotely possible. Information on that kind of thing is well buried. I checked. All my resources are still in place, and have been since well before your embarrassing incident.”  
“What about the weird kid?” snorted the male.   
“Chrona? They know nothing of the summoning methods,” she scoffed. “As they know nothing of most other things. They continue to elude usefulness,” she muttered as an afterthought, so quietly that Soul barely heard. “No, I am certain that a student has not summoned a demon. We have spent a lot of time and resources reducing that kind of activity to a phenomenon no more plausible than a unicorn,” Soul tensed, his whole body flushing cold. They were talking about him. “What information is left, sits hidden or in my office, and not a speck of dust is out of place.”  
“No human could have caused the bruising I felt when I came to,” growled the man. “I couldn’t fucking speak for days! My throat must have been collapsed.” Not a man. A demon. Maka’s attacker. Soul clenched his fists, and forced himself to listen.   
“And what a tragedy that it passed,” sighed the woman coldly. “Well one thing is for sure, the girl turned the needle on you. When you have more reliable information to recall, please come to me. In the meantime, stop bothering me, Giriko. I’m a busy woman.” Giriko. Now, at least, Soul had a name to curse.

Soul heard footsteps and was getting ready to bolt when the man spoke up again. “Wait!” he called. “So do I snap her neck this time?”  
Soul was about ready to burst in and kill them both. “No,” hummed the woman, in a tone not unlike one you might use to decide on a side of fries. “We’ve been monitoring the school garden but she has shown no interest in snooping. It appears, for now, that my fears were unfounded, and she suspects nothing of my activity that night. If, as you say, she is being protected by someone’s demon, or a half demon, then we want to minimise contact. In a few weeks it won’t matter who does or does not suspect us. The Millennium Portal will be ripe, and we may realise our new age.”   
“Well, can I at least kill her in the new age? Shit like that really pisses me off,” he growled. “Plus, I hate her face. I don’t remember it, but I hate it. I want to crush it in my fists.”  
“We’ll see,” replied the woman with finality, then continued toward the door.

Soul carefully backed away and backtracked down the hall to an empty office. Just as the door to the conference room opened, the door to the office Soul hid in closed. He pressed himself against the wall beside the door, waiting. They didn’t pass. After about a minute, Soul poked his head out to look and find a deserted hallway. Medusa and Giriko had gone down the stairwell. Soul was betting that would be the direction to the office, so he made his way over.

It was a lot to process. What woman did they answer to? What the fuck was a Millennium Portal? Sounded like a damn spaceship. He’d have a lot more than a book to bring back to Maka when this was all over with. He didn’t like the sound of it, whatever it was, and he had an inescapable feeling in his gut that something terrible was coming. Those two were a part of it. Talking in secret about demons and hiding information on summoning… there was no way to pass that off as innocent.

In the hall below, Soul finally was met with a familiar sight. The hall of offices belonging to the higher councilmembers. He had gotten closer than he possibly could have hoped! Medusa’s wasn’t hard to spot, due to the door cards titling each occupant. After listening to determine she wasn’t inside, Soul tried the handle. Locked. Expected, but worth a try. You never know. Soul’s second option was to kick down the door, but he didn’t think that was going to happen. But his more reasonable next thought was the secretarial desk at the far end of the hall. When they had toured, a young man had been seated there, taking calls and messages, and directing guests. Now, it was empty. But he was willing to bet that there was something that could help him. 

As he hurried on the balls of his feet down the hall, he heard someone in an office talking on the phone. He’d have to be fast and quiet – someone could pop up at any moment. At the desk, he pulled open the drawers, where he found an honestly impressive variety of stationery. “Who even buys staple removers?” He muttered under his breath. Soul had only ever needed one once, and a steak knife had done to job just fine. The second drawer contained bank slips, a small book full of phone numbers and addresses (mostly commercial), one pair of extremely scratched sunglasses, a stack of envelopes, and a book of postage stamps. And the third…

Soul snatched his hand back as the handle of the drawer burned him. Pain seemed to radiate in his wrist bones. He tried again with a finger, but got a similar result. He couldn’t understand it: the handle was wooden, and if it was hot enough to burn him, it should have been on fire. But it wasn’t visibly out of the ordinary in any way. He took a ruler from the first drawer and went to wedge it in the gap beside the drawer, but once again, his hands stung horribly. The ruler clattered to the floor, and he tensed, holding still and waiting for someone to investigate. No doors opened, and no footsteps came, but before he could relax a sharp, minor sting on his ear made him jump. 

Fuck. Busted. He quickly flicked his ear once, and hopefully she didn’t ask any further questions. Or flick them, as the case may be. Which meant he had to avoid opening that drawer by touching it with his hand or any other object. Cool. He stared at the desk for at least a minute, but every method seemed to involve touching the drawer with something else. So he did the only thing he could do: he took the back of the desk with one hand and lifted it, sending all three drawers and the paper on top of it sliding forward. He dropped it back down before too much could fall off, grinning like an idiot at his success. He scrambled to duck behind the desk again, gathering up fallen papers and pens to heap them back on top of the desk. Once he was done, he closed the two top drawers and finally inspected the third.

In it was a ring of keys and a bank book. He ignored the bank book and took the keys. Some idiot had labelled them for every door in the damn hall. As he picked them up, his eye caught an odd circular mark on the inside of the drawer. It was drawn in something dark and slightly pasty. Like wet charcoal or something. It looked almost like the rune circle Maka had accidentally summoned him with, except it only had one ring of symbols and they didn’t look like the same language; they were much less uniform in size and height. Whatever it was had burned him and left him unable to move the drawer without touching it directly or with another object, and he had a feeling that the human secretary wouldn’t be affected like Soul had been. It was times like this he wished he had a phone like Maka’s to take a photo. He couldn’t exactly draw it either, because it would burn him to try and carry it home. So he did the best he could: he took a pen and a post-it note, drew all but the symbol at the very top, and committed that symbol to memory. It was simple enough; basically an asymmetrical teardrop with the top point missing and a horizontal line underneath. He folded it carefully into his pocket, took the keys, and left the drawer open. He’d need it open so he could replace they keys later.  
He cringed as the keys jangled in his attempts to find Medusa’s key, but there were only twenty or so doors, so it luckily didn’t take long. With a cautious glance to make sure nobody was watching, he unlocked the door and slipped in. The first thing he saw was a woman standing in the corner.

It was a good thing that he only really needed to eat every few days, because if he’d had breakfast it definitely would have left his body one way or another. Luckily, the woman was just a statue carved from dark wood, polished until its dark surface was glossy. The office was tastefully decorated, Soul acknowledged begrudgingly. He reminded himself that this was a woman who ordered hits on teenaged girls, and stopped complimenting her décor in favour of getting what he needed and getting the hell out.

The summoning book was still on the shelf. It had a black and gold cover, the gold being what caught his attention in the first place. It occurred to him that simply replacing the book might not actually work for very long. Medusa was obviously protective of the novel, so she likely checked often to make sure it was still on the shelf. He took the volume from the shelf and inspected it. It was clearly old, the smell and the yellowed pages being the first indicator. Some books had a paper cover to protect the cover underneath, but this one was so old that it likely predated such practices. But it did give him an idea.

“Sorry, Maka,” he muttered, opening the book and slipping his finger in the gap that opened between the back of the pages and the spine. She would have to forgive him for his vandalism. With a peeling rip, he pulled the pages from the cover, watching the old glue crumble, trying not to think about how it was probably made of horses. Soul put Maka’s old textbook inside the leather cover, pleased that it looked close enough to and intact book to be convincing at a glance, and slid the fake book back onto the shelf where it belonged. Luckily there was no dust to worry about. He slid the unbound pages carefully into Maka’s backpack and left the office, careful to put his ear to the door before exiting.

In the hall, he dropped the keys back in the drawer and closed it by rolling the desk chair into the drawer, using the momentum to knock it closed without touching it indirectly. Now, all he had to do was find a window and get down. He followed the hall, more or less retracing his steps back upstairs to the conference room hall. He wouldn’t be able to get back to the skylight to climb out, but it didn’t matter. Now that he was inside, he could go for a window. He picked on of the glass door offices at random. He figured these were the offices of less important desk jockeys, considering how bland they were in comparison to the ones downstairs. One even had a water mark in the ceiling tiles. He entered that one and flicked the latch on the window, sliding it up. Perfect. The afternoon shade would hide him well enough. He climbed out, pulled the window down, and only had to climb down to the next window before it was safe to jump. He probably could have gone from the window he climbed out of, but if his ankles stung from the fall, Maka might get suspicious.

Well, not that it mattered, because he was going to have to tell her anyway. 

The walk home took him the better part of an hour. The whole way he rehearsed ways to tell Maka what he had done. “Hey, Maka, did you have a good day? Oh, mine? Not too exciting, I just watched football and stole government property from the woman who tried to have you drugged,” he muttered to himself, ignoring a dog that barked at him through a house window. “You love books, right? Check out this bad boy,” he rehearsed. “Why do I look so guilty? Fun story, I stole this.” He cleared his throat. “Do you like bad boys? Guess who has two thumbs and is technically a felon. This guy,” Soul groaned and kicked a rock off the sidewalk. This was pointless. There was no way he could phrase this that would end with his head still on his shoulders. But he knew that she would forgive him, because it was what they needed to do. Especially considering the conversation he had overheard. ‘The woman we both answer to’ Giriko had said. Who could a councilwoman possibly answer to?

As he faced the front door to Blair’s apartment, Soul pulled a face. There was nothing for it. He would just walk in, say it straight up, and deal with the consequences as they came. Like ripping off a plaster. He tugged the book from the bag, slung it over his shoulder, and climbed the stairs. He could tell Maka was home because her smell lingered in the air. She must have walking in just seconds ago. Great, so no time to prepare. He put his hand on the knob, took a deep breath, and flung it open, holding up the pages

“I stole the book from Medusa’s office and I’m really really—“ Soul froze, as did Maka and Blackstar as they hunched over a long box they had just placed on the floor. A long, pregnant silence stretched between them. Blackstar looked confused. Maka looked confused but it was quickly turning into more of a confused, panicked rage. Soul didn’t know what he looked like but it probably wasn’t cool. “—Sorry.” He carefully put the book back into the open backpack and let it fall to his side.

Maka stood up calmly, turning to Blackstar. “Could you excuse us for just a moment?” She asked him calmly, with a polite smile that scared Soul far more than her anger. She marched over, took Soul by the sleeve, and dragged him with such force that he didn’t even have a chance to close the door. He dropped the bag by the coat rack and stumbled after her as Blackstar watched, a blank look on his face.

Maka threw him into her room and slammed the door behind them, and before he could get a word in, a book hit him square in the forehead.


	14. And Then There Were Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually have a bit more of a gap between updates, so just a heads up for returning readers: I also added chapter 13 yesterday, so don't read this chapter if you haven't read that one yet! xo

“Ow!!! What the fuck, Maka?” Soul grumbled, trying his best to keep his voice down.  
Maka held her own forehead, but kept her begrudging gaze fixed on him. She had no idea why she did that. She knew it would hurt her too. “What the fuck, me? What the fuck, you!?”

“Swearing sounds weird coming out of your mouth,” he muttered at her. “I’m sorry. I should have checked you were alone before bursting in—“  
Maka cut him off with a hand held up. “You think that’s my problem here? What about the part where you—“ she cut herself off, glancing at the door. Blackstar and Blair were still out there. “Where you broke into a councilwoman’s office!?” She finished in a hiss.  
Soul shrugged a shoulder. “How else were we going to get the stupid book?”  
Maka opened her mouth, but the answer didn’t come. 

“Look, I’m sorry. Really. I knew you wouldn’t let me try it if I asked, so I just did it. But listen—“  
“Damn right I—“ Maka’s words were cut off when Soul clapped a hand over her mouth. She slapped his hand away.  
“Listen!” He hissed again, pulling her away from the door until they were in the far corner of her room. “We have bigger problems. I saw Medusa there.”  
Maka groaned in despair, her lungs feeling like they were filled with lead. “Oh please, please tell me she didn’t see you!?!!!”  
Soul shook his head, but she was unable to relax. “No. Somehow, worse. I heard her talking. About you.”  
Maka froze, turning over this information in her head. “About me?”  
“She was the one who tried to have you drugged. She thinks you saw her doing something… uh…”  
“…on school grounds,” she finished. “I knew it! At first I thought it was to do with Chiro’s book, but when we saw her yesterday, I thought maybe she had something to do with it. But... but how can that be? She’s still here. We banished that demon.”  
“Well, that actually is a wonderful segue into my next bombshell: the demon was the person she was talking to,” Soul said, pressing his lips together.

Maka’s brain ground to a halt, tripping over itself. “That… but that’s not possible. We would have banished both him and his summoner, right? They can’t just summon themselves back. And the council voted on a really big supply bill on witch root over the weekend, and nobody reported Medusa as absent.”  
“Well, he was there and so was she. Maybe she didn’t summon him, maybe he’s someone else’s demon,” Soul theorised as he leaned against the footboard of her bed, folding his arms. With a start, Maka realised he was wearing the massive hoodie she kept for sick days. He’d managed to get it to stay bunched at the crooks of his elbows, something she could never manage because her arms were too small to hold the fabric up. Looking at it made her want to eat soup and lie in bed all day. Not with Soul, obviously. Because that would be weird. And if she kept thinking about that he would definitely know that she was thinking about that. She turned her attention quickly to the cobweb in the corner of her ceiling that she had been meaning to dust away for the past three days. Looking at that never failed to sour her mood. How come he looked so much better in hoodies than she did??? Besides, his triceps would not make her any less mad at him, try as they might.

Soul raised a brow and looked over his shoulder, following her gaze to the web. “What’s wrong with you?”  
“Soup,” Maka blurted, and immediately cringed.  
“Soup?”  
“Yes. No. Never mind. You’re still in trouble!”  
He sighed. “Well, Giriko – that’s the asswipe who jumped you – was talking about some woman. He said both he and Medusa answer to her,” he told her.  
“But Medusa is on the council. That’s as high as you can go as far as exorcists are concerned. Who could she possibly answer to?”  
Soul nodded, pointing at her. “That’s what I thought too! Maybe that’s the person who summoned Giriko.”  
Maka ran her hands through her hair, pacing. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. This is going so much deeper than I ever thought it would!”  
“Yeah, well, that’s not the least of it. Giriko knows that a demon sent him back to hell, but he can’t remember who. But they will almost certainly be looking into your activity. They’re going to know pretty soon that some shady kid had been hanging around you,” he said, pointing a thumb toward his own person. “They mentioned someone who might know about demon summoning, someone Giriko thought might have told you how to do it. Chrona, they called them.”  
Maka frowned. That sounded familiar. “As in, C-H-R-O-N-A? Soul, I think that was on one of the family trees!!!”

Soul stared at her blankly for a moment before realisation dawned on his face. “Okay, but we have the book now, so… hot concept, probably don’t go snooping around for people Medusa has her eye on?”  
“Are you kidding? That’s even more reason to find them! They might know who Medusa is working for and what they want!” She could barely keep herself from jumping in excitement. Finally, a solid lead with information from a first-hand source!  
“No way. I’m not kidding Maka, I think these people are serious. When I found the drawer the office keys were kept in, it burned my hand,” He told her, levelling a serious look at her. Maka’s hand went to her wrist.  
“That’s what that was?”  
Soul nodded. “And when I got it open, I found a weird rune on the inside. It was—oh, hang on,” he rooted through the pockets of her hoodie and produced a green post-it note. “I drew it.”

Unfolded, it had an odd circle on it. It looked like a rune circle, but it definitely wasn’t. The markings were totally unfamiliar to her. She stepped over to peer at the paper in his hand. “Is this the whole thing?”  
“No, there’s one that goes here,” he told her softly, pointing to the top of the circle. “It’s like… um…” he trailed off, tapping the top of the paper with a finger. “I’ll draw it,” he said, crossing to her desk and sitting down in her chair. He took a pen from the mug on her desk and set the note down, drawing a symbol that looked like an odd vase, or a--

“Augh!” Maka and Soul cried out in unison, with Soul reeling back so hard that the chair flipped over and he landed on the floor. Maka grunted, holding her hand, and knelt down to the floor where the note had fallen in the commotion. She put a hand on Soul’s arm as he panted on the floor.  
“Are you okay?” She asked, leaning over him, and waving a hand over his face when he didn’t respond right away. “Soul?”  
He opened his eyes and stared at her for just a fraction of a second too long before awkwardly struggling into a seated position. “Yep. Fab. Hundred percent. Never better,” he groaned as he lifted himself off the floor.  
Maka backed away to give him space, and returned to the note. “So it burns if anyone touches it?”  
“Actually, I was wondering about that,” he told her groggily. “Touch it.”  
“Are you crazy??” Maka scoffed at him. There was no way she was getting stung like that again. The pain seemed to radiate into her bones.  
“I have a theory, and this is the only way I can confirm it. You gotta,” he told her firmly. 

Maka pressed her lips together. Nervous, she reached out to the note, closing one eye as her fingers drifted dangerously close to the paper. Finally, her fingers brushed the surface, and she clenched her eyes as…. a tingle, like she was touching something with a very faint current running through it. She opened her eyes and poked it again, then picked it up. Soul flinched away from her as she did.

“It’s as I thought,” he said grimly. “It’s a demon repellent of some kind. Probably only humans or exorcists can touch it without getting hurt too badly.”  
“Hmm,” she hummed absently. It was odd that she was feeling a hum too, but it was nowhere near what Soul felt. “What if…. Maybe I still feel a tingle because I’m bonded to you,” she said, lifting her hand to look at the mark on her smallest finger. If only they had another subject to test…. And then it hit her. “We should get Blackstar to touch it and see what happens!”  
“Should we really involve him in any of this? He’s not exactly the um….” Soul waved a hand, looking for the word to describe the indescribable. “He’s not the hush-hush type. Know what I’m saying?”  
“I do,” she admitted. “But it’s the best we’ve got. I don’t think Blair is home. Come on,” she said, standing and holding out a hand to help him up. He took it and immediately recoiled, both of them swearing as pain shot through them.  
“Forgot. I can’t even touch it with another object. Or… person, as the case may be,” he grunted, lifting himself from the floor.  
Maka stuffed the whisper of disappointment she got when he snatched his hand away deep down into an imaginary paper-waste bin in her mind… then set the bin on fire. Just to be sure. “Weird,” she sighed, looking at the note.

She flung her door open. Now that her fury at Soul’s recklessness was easing, she found herself eager to get her hands on that book. It was almost impossible to believe that the answers she had been looking for were here, under her roof! With less enthusiasm, she realised that soon Soul would want to be sent home. It was odd. Weeks ago she wanted nothing but to be rid of him. But now, life would be weird without him around, annoying her and eating all her food and pretending he wasn’t staring at her housemate’s boobs.

“Hey, this is super weird,” Blackstar called, drawing Maka’s attention from the floor where she was walking. He was on the floor, a pen in his hand, in plain view at the end of the hall. He had a writing pad in his other hand, and on the floor in front of him…. Maka stopped dead. She dropped the anti-demon paper. Soul bumped into her back, and she felt him tense as his gaze met the scene before them.  
“Blackstar, stop!” Soul cried out. Maka ran, her socks slipping on the polished floor and sending her down hard to her knee. Soul grunted, but she ignored the pain.  
“What—“he began, but he dropped the paper in his surprise at their reaction, and that was it.

It fell to the floor. Maka lifted herself with her arms, watching in slow motion as it fell. It kissed the floor gently, a barely audible sliding sound seeming louder than an explosion in the perfectly silent house. And then, the room flooded with light. She shielded her eyes as they stung from the brightness. When it had dimmed enough for her to look, Maka saw a figure unfurl itself from the floor. Tall. Thin. Ghostly. It loomed above Blackstar, the summoning book between them. She couldn’t believe he was stupid enough to write out strange tags he read about in books! Let alone ones he dug out of someone else’s bag.

Now more visible, the figure settled into a floating position. She was definitely feminine. Her feet hovered a few inches off the ground, and she was leaning back, her s-shaped posture relaxed, but at the same time it was like she could strike at any moment. She wore a long white robe with slits up to her thighs, and it flapped gently in a non-existent breeze, along with her inky black ponytail. Her hair was so dark that it seemed to swallow all light that hit it. Eyes with no irises or pupils glowed with a soft, warm white light, framed by dark lashes as they regarded the blue-haired boy with no emotion. Around her, three loops of dark silver chain hovered with the same gentle pulse that she did, each of them rotating around her like a shield or cocoon. Her beauty was haunting. Blackstar stood slowly, in awe of the creature before him. No, not creature.

Demon.

“Sss….” Breathed the demon, the sound struggling between her teeth. She was beautiful, but Maka knew exactly what was coming, because she had seen this before. She had been there before.  
This was what made Maka panic. If Blackstar bonded with that demon, then he would be in just the same trouble she was, and with mysterious, powerful people on the verge of discovering her secret… she didn’t think. She just scrambled to her feet, making for the pair. The demon reached out. “Don’t let her touch you!” Maka cried, but her approach was halted by Soul taking her arm.

“Let go, what are you doing!?” She cried, trying to pry his fingers off. “We have to stop them!”  
“You can’t—“ he began, but Maka tried to run for them again. Soul took her around the waist and lifted her off the floor. She kicked and struggled, but he held fast. “Let me help him!”  
“You can’t help him, Maka. It is in limbo. It can’t be banished until it is bonded,” Soul explained in a strained tone. “If you touch her, she could kill you.”  
“But if he bonds with her, he can’t banish her, can he?! And then he’s in danger, just like us!“ she grunted, squirming. “We have to get him away!”  
“She will follow him until they meet,” he said calmly. “It’s too late. We missed our chance to stop him,” he explained softly. 

The demon’s hand was delicate and pale, and it passed through a gap in the chain barrier, extending toward Blackstar. Maka remembered that night in the woods, where she was soaked and afraid and tired. Part of her wanted to struggle still, knowing her bond had eviscerated her normal life. As obnoxious as he was, she couldn’t wish that on Blackstar. But Soul was right: it was too late. As it had been too late for Maka that night. There had been a time when she was convinced her life as an exorcist was over, but now… just moments ago, she had been dreading the concept of a life without Soul in it. She slackened in Soul’s arms, gripping his hand tight. He gently set her down, but she didn’t let go of his hand, feeling her eyes sting as she watched. Maybe one day, Blackstar and this demon would be beautiful friends. Would they let that go, or would the demon watch as he became frail and old and wasted away? Do demons die when their bonded human dies of old age? Who in their right mind would sit by a deathbed that would take them, too? 

Maka cried, because she was projecting horribly and it was all crashing down on her at once. She turned away, trying her best to hide it, but it was useless. Soul squeezed her hand. He knew. 

Blackstar and the demon froze in place. The demon’s palm had met Blackstar’s shoulder, and they seemed so still that it was unnatural. After less than a heartbeat, they both collapsed onto the floor. The chains seemed to burn up in an invisible fire, vanishing into thin air so fast that Maka barely caught it. All that was left were two unconscious bodies, who might have been ordinary people, except they were now part of a very exclusive party of four.


	15. Crowded Secrets

“We are in deep, deep shit,” Soul breathed, taking in the scene before them.  
“That’s what I tried to tell you,” Maka groaned, withdrawing her hand from his to wipe her face in frustration.  
“We have to move them. We’ll put the demon in my room, Blackstar on the sofa. We have to break the news slowly,” she said with resolve. She was getting it together again, thank god.  
“Why? They’re going to find out soon enough,” Soul shrugged.  
“Because when I found out I was magically attached to a demon, it was a bit of a cold shock when it started threatening me,” she reminded him, folding her arms.  
“I wasn’t threatening you, I was just… warning you that you might accidentally exorcise yourself in. Big difference,” he defended himself. “Are you okay?”

Maka inhaled sharply. No, she was not. “I’m just sorry that I let it happen to him, too.”  
“Gee,” he muttered sarcastically. “I’m standing right here.”  
“That’s not what I meant!” She snapped defensively. “We aren’t safe. Someone knows there is a demon on earth, at the academy, and Blackstar has just doubled their chances of finding one! If things were different this would be the best thing anyone could ever ask for, but for the moment, I’m just scared and now he has that danger too, except he’s too dumb and egotistical to be scared, which is worse, because he’ll get himself killed with that big mouth of—“  
“Breaths between words,” Soul reminded her, screwing up his face with the discomfort in her lungs. Maka sucked in a breath and let it out again, closing her eyes. “Maka, we can fix this,” he told her, taking her shoulders firmly. “Got it? We have names now. We know who is hiding this. Think that if we expose Medusa, exorcists will be free to summon demons to their hearts’ content. Think of how many less rampaging, unsummoned demons there would be if people actually understood how and why they exist?”  
“But this cover-up must run deep. For centuries, even! How can I know that we won’t fail and be killed horribly?” she despaired. “How do we know others haven’t tried this and failed?”  
“You don’t. No way of knowing,” he said shortly, with a shrug. “But that’s half the fun of being mortal, right?”

Maka regarded him reluctantly. She couldn’t believe he was the optimist in this conversation. Usually he was frustratingly relaxed while she tried to keep the train rolling within an inch of her sanity. He had a point though, and she wanted to believe him. After all, would she ever forgive herself if they didn’t at least try to make a difference? Maybe her accident with the rune circle wasn’t an accident at all. Maybe it was fated. Who knows?

“Okay, well, these guys aren’t going to move themselves,” Maka sighed, moving over to them. She leaned over the girl, inspecting her. She was pretty, with angled features and soft-looking skin. She was willowy, the kind of girl who would make a great model. Great. More impossibly gorgeous women for Maka to surround herself with. Maka took the demon under the arms and waited for Soul to pick up her legs, and they shuffled their way to Maka’s room, where they set her down carefully on the bed. They went back for Blackstar, all but tossing him onto the sofa. 

When they were done, both Blackstar and his demon were still completely out for the count. Soul folded his arms. “What’s in the box?” He asked suddenly, while Maka was picking up the summoning book. Who the hell even goes into someone’s bag and pulls out strange books? “Maka?” Super rude. And then he actually imitated a tag from the pages! Absolutely stupid thing to do. That poor demon had no idea what she was in for. “Earth to Miss Albarn. Hey!”  
Maka started. “Sorry. I was somewhere else. Um… box. Oh!” In all the commotion, Maka had entirely forgotten the box she and Blackstar had been carrying in when Soul had burst in and yelled sensitive information for the whole street to hear. “It’s for you!”  
Soul blinked at her. “What?”  
“Well, the thing in the box. The…. It’s a present. For you,” Maka babbled. Given that the gift had completely slipped her mind, she hadn’t had time to rehearse how she would present it to him. She couldn’t believe it! She had gone out of her way to buy it and have Blackstar help her carry it home, and she had forgotten all about it because SOMEONE had no manners as a houseguest and started opening portals to hell in their living room. “I was going to wrap it, but… um, anyway, you can open it.”

Soul walked over to the box, eyeing it suspiciously. “What is it?”  
“Well, you’ll find out in a second when you open it!” Maka smiled. “Go on.”  
But Soul looked concerned. “Was it expensive?”  
“Open it.”  
“Maka please don’t tell me you spent a lot of money on this because—“  
Maka cut him off by groaning, throwing her head back. “Ugh, it doesn’t matter! Just open it!”

Soul glowered at her, then knelt to rip at the cardboard. He tore it like it was paper, which might have terrified Maka if she didn’t know he was a demon. He pulled the packing away to reveal an electric keyboard in its plastic, a stand folded neatly beside it in the box.

Despite everything, Maka was grinning. “It has weighted keys.”  
“This was expensive,” he ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t accept this.”  
With a heavy sigh, Maka plodded over and sat down next to where he knelt on the floor. “You can and you will. Because I ate the receipt, so I can’t return it.”  
Despite himself, he smirked and flicked his gaze to her. “You did not,” he called her on her bluff.  
“I did too!” She giggled.  
“You didn’t ask your dad for this did you? Because I know you hate it, and…” Soul trailed off, and Maka could practically hear the penny drop in his brain. “Your prize money.”  
“Mmmhm. I wouldn’t have been able to collect it if you hadn’t saved me and all, so…. Thanks.” Soul looked like he was about to object again, so she changed the subject before he could try to turn it down again. “Play me something!”

“Uh, oh. Okay,” Soul stammered, suddenly nervous. She could tell. “I guess. I don’t really know how. I mean I do but I don’t—“he stopped talking as Maka tugged out the stand and unfolded it, planting it in the middle of the floor. “Ok. Hang on, you’re doing that wrong…”

They spent the better part of an hour in the kitchen, plucking out tunes and waiting for Blackstar and the demon to wake up. The incoming storm that Blackstar had unleashed hung over their heads, but for now, they could be stupid and make up melodies and ignore that nagging feeling that something terrible was about to happen. The keyboard only had small speakers in it, but Maka promised that if they survived Medusa, she would buy him an amp for it. Maka would play Soul songs on her phone and he would listen and re-create the melody with alarming speed and accuracy. He really did have a knack for this stuff.

“Maka,” Soul asked suddenly, his hands freezing over the keys. “When this all blows over and we solve the mystery of who hid crucial information from an entire secret society of exorcists for over a millennium…”  
Maka knew this conversation had to be coming soon. “I’ll send you home, if that’s what you want,” she replied.  
“No, see, that’s the thing. We have the answers on the kitchen table,” he pointed out, the summoning book sitting on the breakfast table. Maka had been too shaken to even attempt to read it yet. “But what’s the rush? I might hang around for a while. See the sights, I dunno. Apparently jazz clubs exist, which sounds kinda cool.”  
“You want to… hang around?” Maka asked. “In jazz clubs?”  
“I know you can’t wait to get rid of me.”  
“That’s not true!” Maka scoffed quickly. A little too quickly. “You’re impulsive and you eat all my cereal, but…. Well, you bought me food once, so. Maybe you’re not so bad,” she winked. He rolled his eyes and they laughed together, keeling over the keys.  
“I’m just saying. I don’t mind this so much. I don’t even miss home, really,” he sighed. “Everything here is so sunny. And consistent. And you don’t even get temporal tornadoes.”  
“…what?”  
“You don’t want to know,” he advised.

A loud, jarring thud drew them both from their conversation and Maka stood at the ready while Blackstar slowly rose from the floor. He’d rolled off the sofa, and was now looking around the room like he expected enemies. His gaze landed on Soul and Maka, and he rose a hand to point at them.

“Explain.”

Soul glanced at Maka with an expression that just about said ‘you take this one, chief.’ Helpful of him. She planted her hands on her hips and stood, glaring. “What kind of person just takes something out of someone else’s bag? And copies strange tags from it, no less!?”  
“You guys were acting shifty. And you were shifty!” He accused, his finger still pointing.  
“Put that down before I snap it,” Maka huffed impatiently. “Well, you had better sit down, because you just dove face-first into a web I’ve been trying to unravel for weeks.”

He did not follow her instructions, but it didn’t really matter, because she was quickly distracted by stumbling out of the way as the demon from Maka’s bedroom sprinted into the room, looking like a frightened deer. She looked first to Maka, then to Soul, then to Blackstar, then back to Soul, then back to Blackstar. “You summoned me,” she accused, seeming…. Flustered. “You’re a demon!” She gasped at Soul next.  
“So are you!” He responded with a straight face.  
“What is happening right now,” Blackstar interjected, wide-eyed. “Demons?” Maka could see his hands twitching for his pockets, and she realised they had been stupid enough not to disarm him before this sort of thing came up.

“Blackstar, stop, calm down, it’s okay,” Maka warned him. “You don’t need to exorcise anyone.”  
“Don’t tell me to calm down, I’ve woken in a strange place and it’s full of demons. Are you a demon too!?”  
“You’ve been in my classes since we were in kindergarten, Blackstar,” Maka rolled her eyes.  
“An elaborate cover.”  
“Ugh, this is tedious,” Soul interrupted, standing up. “You,” he began, pointing to Blackstar, “Picked up a book you shouldn’t have and have now summoned this giraffe, to whom you are now soul bound,” he explained slowly, gesturing to the female demon.  
“My name is not Giraffe,” she pointed out. “It’s Tsubaki.”  
“Gesundheit,” Soul muttered.  
“Don’t be rude,” Maka hissed.  
“I summoned a demon?” Blackstar whispered, mostly to himself. “I really am…. A god….”

“Blackstar! Focus! You can’t tell anyone about this, you understand?” Maka hissed, walking up to snap her fingers in his face. “Not a soul! Do you realise what would happen if word got out that we summoned demons?”  
“We would be famous?”  
“We would die,” Maka growled. “Because that book you nosed around in? We just stole it from a councilwoman’s office.”  
“You? Stole something?” Blackstar suddenly burst out laughing, right in her face.  
“This is serious,” she hissed, her temper flaring. “Could you stop being obnoxious for once in your life!?”  
“It is kind of unbelievable,” Soul shrugged. “Also, technically it was I who did the stealing.”  
Maka turned her gaze on Soul in a glare. “Need I remind you that you’re still in a lot of trouble for that stunt?” Soul shrugged. “Of all the people to be in on a life-threatening secret… Blackstar.” She threw her hands up and paced away. “We’re all going to die.”

“Um,” said Tsubaki, who had been watching with a mixture of confusion and concern on her face. “I have several questions.”  
“So do I,” Blackstar added. “Did she say that this guy who has been carrying your books for weeks is a demon?”  
Maka blanched. “Um…”  
“Old news bro,” Soul shrugged.  
“So how did you do it without the book?” He asked. Apparently he caught on faster than Maka gave him credit for.  
“Entirely by accident, and let me tell you it is not the celebrity cakewalk you think it’s going to be. It’s going to take a long time to explain, so.” Maka sighed, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. “I hope you don’t have dinner plans.”  
Blackstar leaned against the sofa, inspecting his nails with purposeful exaggeration. “So do I have like, special powers now, or—“

He was cut off by a loud tone, and Maka looked over just as Tsubaki stood up ramrod straight to pretend she hadn’t caused the noise by pressing a key. “Sorry,” she said quietly. Looking at her, it was hard to believe she was a demon. She was tall, but she seemed to be trying to take up as little space as possible. She clasped her hands when she wasn’t using them. Maka felt suddenly guilty for accommodating to Blackstar when this girl had no idea who anyone was, or where she was.

“No, actually,” Maka said, using Blackstar’s question as an opportunity to segue. “She does. You said your name was Tsubaki?”  
“Yes!” She answered, as if snapping to attention. She stared at Maka’s hand when she extended it, blinking in confusion.  
“You shake it, up and down,” Maka hinted. Tsubaki hesitantly took Maka’s hand and did as instructed, and while the motion was awkward, they pulled it off. “My name is Maka, and this is Soul.”  
“And I’m Blackstar. The only name you need to remember,” announced the blue-haired wonder from behind them.  
“I’d like to apologize in advance for him,” Maka whispered, making Soul snort. 

Maka glanced between her houseguests. Now, on top of everything else, she would have to ensure that Blackstar and Tsubaki were up to speed. She would have a hard time stressing the importance of secrecy to Blackstar. She’d have to make not telling a soul sound cool and exciting. Blackstar slid over and started demanding Tsubaki show him her powers, which Maka was about to stop until the demon happily obliged by producing an armful of assorted weapons that clattered to the floor. She felt her blood pressure spike, knowing that there were definitely some scratches there that would come out of the house deposit.

“This is my fault,” Soul muttered so quietly that Maka barely caught it.  
“A little bit,” Maka smirked at him. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she sighed.  
“What we’re going to do,” he corrected. Her heart swelled with gratitude.  
“Speaking of ‘we’, you have to swear you will never do anything like that again, not without consulting me first, okay?” Maka folded her arms and fixed him a stare. “It’s my neck on the line too, you know. I mean it!”  
“Okay, okay,” Soul sighed. “I swear.”  
“Pinkie swear?” Maka held up her hand with her smallest finger raised. Soul looked at it like she had just presented him with a sea urchin.  
“What the fuck is that?”  
“It’s…” Maka dropped her hand a bit. “It’s a human thing. Let’s call it cultural. You have to lock your finger in mine and it’s like a pact. You can’t break it.” Soul lifted his hand and looked at his fingers. “See, like this,” Maka said, and hooked her finger with his to demonstrate. She could see the mark on his finger that matched hers.  
“Okay. Weird and lame, but okay,” he shrugged.  
“It’s not lame! It’s a scared human tradition,” Maka grumbled.  
“Definitely weird and lame,” Blackstar butted in. Both Maka and Soul disentangled their hands quickly.  
“Sit down,” Maka demanded, more forcefully than she intended to because she wanted desperately to change the subject. “We have a lot of stuff to fill you in on, and it want to get it out of the way before Blair walks in and we dig ourselves even deeper.”

Maka set the summoning book on the kitchen table, and the four of them settled around it. Where would she start? The best place, she decided, was at the beginning.

“I was dispatched to investigate a demon report one weekend when this all started…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing these characters. If i had the time i'd be doing a billion Soul Eater fics at once! I want to do a movie crossover/AU but thinking of my own plots like this one is really fun as well.
> 
> Also, 69 kudos! Nice.


	16. Witch's Realm

"This is the address," Maka announced, even though they all knew that. She tucked her phone into her pocket and looked at the house, which was....

"It's a shithole," decided Blackstar, kicking at weeds growing up the moldy picket fence. The plank caved in easily, probably ridden with white ants.  
"It's a... Well it's home to someone," Maka managed.  
Tsubaki leaned her tall frame over the fence to stare into the overgrown garden. "I think it's nice. Imagine all the animals living in here!"  
"Nothing that lives here is something you want to see," said Blackstar, making a face as something rustled in the shrubs.  
"Let's stop critiquing the real estate and see who's home, yeah?" Soul interrupted, raising his eyebrows at them.

The gate creaked as they opened it, and they walked on the overgrown path towards the house. It was once white, it's clapboard siding coated with years of dust, weathering, and grime to render it an uneven grey. Leaves from an old oak that grew behind it clogged the roof, practically overflowing off the side. The door stood waiting for them. Promising the answers they sought. Well, the answers Maka sought, and Soul sort of wanted but didn't seem fussed. Blackstar and Tsubaki were only invited because Maka was afraid what might happen if Blackstar was left unsupervised with a supernatural and powerful being.

"You knock on it," suggested Blackstar sarcastically, breaking Maka's contemplations.  
"I know," she grumbled, throwing him a glare over her shoulder. He was right though. No sense in standing around. She raised her hand and, with a deep breath, rapped her knuckles on the wood. She only got one tap though, because a searing, unbearable pain shot through her arm and sent her stumbling backwards, crying out. Tsubaki managed to catch her under the arms before she fell. It felt as through every bone from her fingertips to her shoulder had been hit with a hammer all at once. 

"An electric door? Wicked," Blackstar appreciated.  
Tsubaki pushed Maka upright, whose head was spinning. She heard Soul reply "It's not electric," in a strained tone that carried their shared pain with gritted teeth. Maka didn't realise right away that he was next to her, inspecting her knuckles for injury with a grimace on his face. Both their right hands were bloody. Grazes on each knuckle sat red and angry, and she could see his injuries matched hers. He held her hand and wrist like they might break at any moment.

Maka chewed her lip, her arm still throbbing. "It was a sealing circle. Soul found one when he was stealing the book. But I thought they only worked on demons?"  
"Maybe this one is different. Maybe you can make them for anyone?" He suggested, letting her hand go. "You okay?"  
"Yeah, you?" He nodded, and that was the end of their quiet exchange. 

"Well, how do we get the attention of whoever is inside?" Tsubaki asked. "If we can't touch the door?"  
"Last time, Soul couldn't touch the seal, but I could. Maybe...."  
"Maybe it's the opposite," Soul caught on, frowning at the door.  
"Oh. Well, in that case," Tsubaki stepped up to the door and knocked, before anyone could try to convince her not to. Blackstar called out in alarm, Maka shouted a warning, and Soul raised his eyebrows. But nothing happened. She knocked seven times in exactly the way a person who had never knocked on a door before would. 

"Hm. There was an odd sensation," she reported, holding her hand and looking at it.  
"That's freaky," Blackstar said, looking a this hand. "It felt like a muscle cramp. How come we didn't get sent flying?"  
"I..." Maka stood shakily. "I honestly have more questions than answers. We won't know until we find out exactly how it works."

They waited for a minute. Soul stood with his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot to the songs that played in his head. Tsubaki stroked the petals on a purple flower that Maka was halfway sure was actually a weed. Blackstar mimed a handgun, shooting imaginary cans off the fence. Maka rubbed her sore arm. 

"I heard something," Soul said quietly, tilting his head. Tsubaki had frozen too, as if listening. "I think someone is in there."  
"Why haven't they answered?" Tsubaki wondered aloud.  
"Maybe we caught them in the shower," snorted Blackstar from behind them as he continued to "shoot" imaginary cans.  
"I don't think so. They're not moving. I think they just haven't answered the door on purpose." Soul stepped up and knocked with his left hand, sparing them both the ache in their already sore right arm. Indeed, it felt like Maka's hand cramped. 

Again, nothing. Finally Soul threw up his hands and, before anyone could stop him, he turned the handle and pushed the door open. It creaked open, revealing a surprisingly tidy, if not very dim, interior.

"Soul! You can't just open people's doors," Maka scolded. Soul shrugged. Blackstar was already marching in. Tsubaki looked confused.

"AH!" Blackstar exclaimed, sending them all reeling. Faster than Maka could catch, Tsubaki moved. She was inside the doorway, kicking her leg high, and something long and made of metal clattered onto the linoleum floor. Someone cried out in alarm, something heavy fell, and Maka scrambled into the house to see what was happening, her demon close behind.

A long, black sword lay on the ground in the hallway, its owner and another figure cowering in the kitchen to the left of the entrance. Tsubaki had kicked the weapon clean out of its wielder's hands, and Blackstar was checking to make sure his hair hadn't been shaven off in the attack.

"Who are you guys!? I haven't done anything," cried the person on the ground. They seemed to be lying on their friend's legs. It was hard to tell in the darkness of the drawn curtains, but something was odd about that second person. They were enveloped in shadow.  
"They look like assholes," taunted the shadowy figure.  
"We're not here to hurt you!" Maka cut in. She stepped in front of the others and into the kitchen, approaching the stranger with care. "There's been a misunderstanding--"

The shadowy figure stood. Or... Elongated. Like a shadow at sunset, it seemed to stretch. Maka's eyes seemed unable to comprehend what they were seeing until the figure stretched toward her and took her head between it's hands. "Let's crush it," said the shadow, white eyes and teeth flashing in their void figure.  
"No, we aren't allowed to crush people!" Wailed the person on the ground. Maka tried to jerk away, but the shadowy figure had a strength beyond her own.

"Let go," Soul warned from the back of the room.  
"Or what, cheese knife?" Cackled the shadow. "Eh, the other one has bigger tits anyway." Unceremoniously, it lifted Maka only to drop her, and she stumbled to regain her footing.  
"I'm sorry for him," moaned the figure on the floor, who was holding their head in their hands.

"Are you... Is one of you Crona? We came looking. We found--"  
"You came looking for this loser?" Cackled the shadow. "They're good for nothing. Hope you've got a plan b."  
"You shouldn't be so mean," Tsubaki chided.  
"I'm Crona. But it doesn't matter," sighed the pink-haired person on the floor. "I can't help you."  
"I haven't even told you what I came for," Maka protested. "I think you're the descendant of someone I'm looking for, named Chiro. But before that... I have to ask.... Um..."

"What's up with the shadow?" Blackstar cut in, with completely characteristic bluntness.  
"I can't handle this," moaned Crona.  
"I'm them, and they're me," chuckled the shadow with glee, turning upside down in the air. He began to poke Crona's head. "They're the weak part. I'm the strong part. We're such an abomination that Lady Medusa locked us up."  
"Ragnarok, stop. We're not allowed to tell them about that!"

Maka froze. She saw Soul look at her, thinking the same thing she was: what?

"Medusa keeps you here?" Maka frowned. "Why?"  
"She made us," the shadow named Ragnarok shrugged. "We're her little mad experiment. She split Crona's demon blood from their human blood, and now... You have me," he sang discordantly.  
"Demon blood...." the gears in Maka's mind turned.  
Tsubaki frowned "You don't mean that they have a demon ancestor?" She tapped her foot, then whispered to Blackstar, "Is that even allowed?"

For Maka, it was like a puzzle piece fell into place. Chiro's research. Her empathy for demons. The two cups of tea said to have been left on her table when she died. Her elusive family tree. 

"Crona here is part demon," Ragnarok wheezed. "And judging by how you went flying from that anti-mixblood rune on the door, I think your mommy and daddy have some explaining to do, little girl."  
"Wh-- me?" Maka felt the blood drain from her face. "That's not possible."

But... wasn't it? Her mother had left years ago. Her father was definitely a scoundrel, but could he be.... Part demon? Could she? Her mother, perhaps? The rune Soul found had hurt him horribly, but only fuzzed in her hands. The door to Crona's house had burned Maka but only cramped Tsubaki and Soul. If a rune was made for a demon, it could hurt a part demon. And if it was made for a part demon, it would hurt a full demon.

"That's horseshit. How could demons have been hiding under our noses all this time?" Blackstar scoffed. "If there were people walking around boning hellspawn, someone would have noticed, right?"  
"Not if someone was actively keeping it quiet," groaned Crona, as if reluctant to speak. "Oh, she's going to hurt us."  
"I don't get it. Why would Medusa keep this quiet? Does she have a demon of her own?" Maka asked, her heart pounding in her chest.  
"Not in the way you do, kid," replied Ragnarok. "Medusa can't bond with demons. People like her can summon demons, but they're weak and unbound. Not like you two." The demon shadow waggled his finger between Tsubaki and Soul. "It's because Medusa is a--"  
"W-we can't tell them that!" Interrupted Crona in a panic. They picked themselves up off the floor and tried to push the group towards the door. "You should go! Just close the door and shut me in here, I can't handle this."  
"What are you, insane? We'd be trapped here if you let them do that? Idiot!" The shadow began wacking Crona on the head.

"Both of you, stop!" Maka demanded, raising her voice to a shout. "Don't hit them like that! Don't you see I need your help? I've been chasing answers for weeks, and every time I think I have an answer, it just gives me ten more questions," she despaired. "Please. I have nowhere else to look. You have to tell us what's going on. I know there's something big happening, and it goes to the top, but I can't connect the dots on my own! I don't know what Medusa did to keep you here, but I promise I will help you. For me to be able to do that I need all the information."

Crona and their demon shadow stopped, and looked at her. Crona shook, making a slight whine like the indecision was tearing them apart. "M-Medusa.... Is a..."  
"She's a witch," finished Ragnarok. "Figuratively AND literally."  
"A witch?" Soul bristled.  
"Witches aren't real," Blackstar scoffed.  
"You only think that because they want you to," lamented Crona. "They always feared exorcists because their bonded demons were more powerful than any demon a witch could summon. So they drove in a wedge over the centuries, a-and bit by bit, they made us all forget."  
"Forget?"  
"Forget you could summon demons, duh," Ragnarok rolled his eyes. "They couldn't muscle exorcists out of power, so they got in your heads, poisoned demons and exorcists against each other. Framed demons human murders. And now you know the truth, they'll try to kill you for it. It's nearly the big day, and Medusa won't risk liabilities. And boy, aren't you the sorriest sack of liabilities I've ever laid eyes on!"

"I feel like he's enjoying this more than he should be," Tsubaki frowned.  
"Wait," said Soul. "What do you mean, 'big day?'"  
"We can't!!" Cried Crona.  
"She's going to open the gates of hell. It can only happen every millennium or so. When the witches do that, you'd need a hundred demons to stand a chance against that coven of geriatric fucks running your institution!" His laughter seemed to shake the very building with its shrillness. "When they get rid of you pesky exorcists for good, it will finally be a witch's world. Nobody to stop them from running the show."  
"H-how do we stop it?" Maka asked, clenching her fists. "We have to try."  
"What's the point?" Crona sighed. "You'd die trying."

"He said we'd need a hundred demons to stop them," chimed in Soul, who had been leaning in the doorway with a frown on his face for most of the conversation. "So we just get a hundred demons."  
"How would we do that? I don't even know a hundred people," Maka huffed.  
"What about your classmates?" Soul suggested.  
"Right. Walk into school and tell everyone witches are real and that we've summoned demons. Real good idea, that's gonna go well in the cafeteria." Blackstar kicked at the floor. 

But maybe they were both on to something. They couldn't just jump on the lunch tables and shout nonsense, hoping someone would believe them. You can't give answers to questions that nobody is asking yet. So they would make people ask questions, and they needed somewhere away from school to do it.

"We throw a party," Maka said, clapping her hands together.  
"Oh. No thank you, that sounds terrible," said Crona.  
"Not here," she reassured them. "Blackstar, Medusa doesn't know you're involved yet. She'd be watching for sure if I started handing out invitations in the halls, but you are a different story."  
"I am a different story, thank you for noticing," he grinned. "Wait, you want me to throw a party?"  
"Yes! Throw a party, this weekend. I have a plan. We'll make invitations and you can hand them all out at school tomorrow," Maka said excitedly.  
"I still have to go to school?" He complained. "But I have a demon, aren't I exempt?"  
"Absolutely not."  
"Fuck."

"That's all well and good, but if you don't mind, that door hasn't been left open in years," Ragnarok cut in, his voice bored. "Giddyup, bones," he commanded Crona.  
"Medusa would hate me if I left. I'll just stay here," Crona murmured, once again hiding his face.  
"Y-you can't stay here, surely?" Tsubaki gawked. "She's horrible, isn't she? Am I confusing Medusa with someone else? Sorry, I only heard this whole story for the first time a few hours ago," she apologized.  
"Yes, she is. And I won't let you stay here another day waiting for her," Maka declared.

She stepped up to Crona and Ragnarok. "I don't know what she did to you all this time, but I'm not going to leave you here at her mercy any longer. I couldn't live with myself if I did. So you're leaving this house with us!"  
"You barely know me. Why are you doing this?" Crona sniffled, gazing at her with sad eyes.  
"How could I not?" Maka shrugged, and offered her hand. Cautiously, Crona took it to shake it. Ragnarok slapped his hand over their handshake and shook violently.  
"Got any candy?" He asked, shattering the sentiment entirely.  
"I'm Maka. This is Soul," she introduced, pointing. "And this is Blackstar and his demon, Tsubaki."  
"O-okay."  
"Let's get you out of here."

As they filed into the decrepit garden once more, Crona looked around like they were strolling on Mars. "I haven't been out here in so long," they sighed.  
"You can crash at mine," Maka volunteered. "We have a third room."  
"I thought that was Soul's," Blackstar frowned.  
"Keep up, Blackstar. The room's a cover. Soul doesn't even sleep," she called over her shoulder.  
"Oh. Demon thing. Yeah," he chuckled. "Wicked."

Maka let them go ahead a bit, lagging behind to stop Soul after he closed the door behind them. "Show them home, okay? There is something I have to do."  
"I'll come--"  
"No. They need to know the way." She took a deep breath. "There are apparently some questions my father needs to answer. Trust me when I say that if I bring a boy with me, it will be ten times worse for everyone involved, okay?"  
"Why would that make a difference? He's a dude too, isn't he?" He raised an eyebrow. Oh, the naivete of otherworldly beings. 

Maka clasped her hands, rummaging in her vocabulary to find the words to explain. "He's going to get the wrong idea. About us. His first thought isn't going to be 'oh, my daughter has brought her platonic classmate over to visit me. How unconcerning,'" she said in a mocking voice. "He'd just engage you in an interrogation. He thinks any boy I talk to is my boyfriend, and then gets offended when he's not. He's a walking contradiction," Maka complained, her arms folded and her gaze on the street.  
"I'm not a "boy." I'm a demon," Soul bristled. They could feel each other's embarassment, but it seemed they were silently agreeing not to acknowledge it.  
"Yes, well, apparently those lines are blurred these days," Maka muttered bitterly, her thoughts on the blood in her veins and the seal on the door, made specifically to confine a human with demon blood. 

Soul peered at her for a few moments. It was hard to believe she could have demonic blood. Looking at him, it seemed obvious to her that he radiated an energy that regular people did not. She didn't feel that energy in herself. And her family had been famous for generations as exorcists. How could she have demon blood and stand her own smoke?

Soul folded his arms. "Are you sure you can handle it?"  
"I can't afford not to," she replied, pressing her lips together. Her reality had done nothing but collapse in on itself lately. "I thought we were the only ones on the planet until this week. So why do I feel more alone now than I did when it was just you and me?" Her own blood could be keeping secrets from her. Now she had Blackstar and Tsubaki to worry about, as well as herself and Soul, and every step they took towards answers only made her feel smaller in a world full of secrets. 

Soul surprised her by squeezing her hand. "It's still you and me. You might stink of human, but you're alright," he teased, flashing his teeth. His hand left as quickly as it had come, and his words were half in jest, but Maka's heart swelled, and something inside her clicked. It was like there had been a heavy steel ball rolling around in her mind for weeks, throwing her off balance, and it had finally fallen into a groove dead in her centre, where it wouldn't come loose. She knew that was dangerous, because one day he would go home but the ball would still be there, weighing her down until the end of her days. Still, she threw her arms around him and hugged him like a vice, her ear on his chest. 

She felt him tense, like he didn't know what to do with her, until he gently wrapped his arms around her back. They stayed like this only for a second, because Maka had to sense to pull away before it got too awkward.

"Thanks, Soul," she said sincerely. "I'll see you later, okay?" And she marched down the path and turned away from their path home, towards the nicer neighborhoods instead.  
"O-okay," she heard him say quietly as she walked away, her face burning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are mistakes, I'm in a bit of a rush to post this one before I head off to work for the day!


	17. The Truth In Her Veins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning -- Violence is described in this chapter, and it is somewhat detailed. Proceed with caution if this may affect you.

"MAKA!"

A tall, lanky figure hugged her so hard that she was sure her bones would snap under the pressure. 

"Papa, you're hurting me," Maka said dryly. He let go, but kept his hands on her shoulders, like he always did when he saw her after a long absence. Admiring her like a painting.  
"Oh, you're definitely taller and more beautiful every time I see you. I hope the boys aren't bothering you!"  
"Not at all."  
"Well, why not? Are they blind? Stupid?" He scoffed, and Maka rolled her eyes. This was exactly why she didn't visit.

"Papa, I think we need to talk about some things. As adults. Do you think you can manage that?" She tapped her foot impatiently.  
He threw her a look. "What's this about?"  
"I'll tell you when we're inside."

The place looked much like she remembered it. The house was large, with crystal chandeliers and family portraits that were anywhere between months and centuries old. The former notable in the new addition in the foyer -- one that sent her into a pit of emotional horror that nearly physically crippled her. 

"You had my school photo painted!?" She wailed, turning on her father. So strong was her revulsion that Soul flicked her ear. She barely managed to respond appropriately.  
"Well, I tried to ask you to sit for it but you're always so busy," pouted her father. Hard to believe he was a grown man, the way he acted.  
"Take it down."  
"No! It's beautiful!"  
"I look sleep deprived. Look at those red eyes. I look like the demon dog from Ghostbusters," she grumbled, but left it alone. She would just silently vow to never show Soul this house before that likeness got burned.

She knew her way around, leading them to a small sitting room that branched off from the small family library. He took the seat across from her, throwing her odd looks. "I'm going to save us both a lot of trouble by cutting directly to the point," she told him, her spine straight and her hands folded in her lap. "I have demon blood, don't I?"

Her father visibly reeled from the question, his face paling dramatically. "I--"  
"I was thrown from a rune drawn to keep people with mixed blood from touching a door," she added, when it looked like he was going to try to deny it. He deflated, running a hand through his hair.  
"This is a dangerous topic, pumpkin," he said softly, reluctance in his eyes. "Once you start asking questions, it rarely leads to answers before someone tries to silence you."  
"You'd be surprised how well I know that already."

Her father put his head in his hands. The soft light filtering through the trees outside made spattered patterns of shadow on the carpet that Maka had known her whole life. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in the library's safety. But her memories of this place were tainted forever by the echoes of screaming matches in the halls.

"Maka," her father said softly, leaning forward in his seat. "Something is different. What's going on?"  
She hesitated for a moment. Should she hide what was going on? Mere weeks ago she would have never dreamed of visiting her father and updating him on her life. But now, it seemed the world was closing in on her, and she needed all the help she could get to keep her head above water. "Papa, I summoned a demon." Spirit Albarn paled in his seat. His hands gripped the arms of the chair so hard that the joints in the wood creaked. He didn't respond, so she continued. "It was an accident. And now... We found out some stuff. We were only trying to reverse the bond, but I think... I think the world is in trouble. I don't know what to do."

Spirit closed his eyes, as if cursing silently. Who or what he was cursing, she wasn't sure. "You bonded with a demon. Oh, my darling Maka...."  
"Papa, it's okay--"  
"Is it a boy?"  
Maka groaned and threw her hands up. "Did you not hear what I said? The world is in danger! Witches have been ruling our society for centuries and they're about to wipe us out, and all you're worried about is if he's a boy!?"  
"So it is a boy..."  
Maka slammed her hand on the table. "Focus!"

Her father folded his arms and sat straight. "My grandmother was a demon," he admitted flatly. So, it was true then. Maka clasped her hands tightly. She'd had the entire walk to her father's home to contemplate this possibility. Still, it didn't fully prepare her. 

"How.... How? All this time, we've just hidden it? How can I exorcise when I'm part demon? How am I supposed to exorcise when it could hurt the demon attached to me?" Her hands trembled.  
"We've hidden it to survive. Many didn't hide it well enough, and they're not here to tell the tale," he replied grimly. "You can't exorcise something if it belongs. You are first and foremost human, Maka. And by extension, you can't exorcise your demon unless you mean to."  
Maka drummed her fingers, turning the information over in her head. "How do you know all this?"  
"There's a reason we never speak to our prestigious family branches, Maka. Your great grandpapa, he did what you did. His family helped him cover it up, searched for months for a way to reverse the bond and send her away for good. When they finally found it, it was too late, and he refused. They never spoke to us again." Spirit sighed. "Now we are here."  
"Now we are here," Maka agreed with a long sigh.

"Papa, we're going to fight the witches," she told him bluntly. "We found Medusa's... Well she had this poor kid locked in a house, and their demon told us she would open the gates of hell and have the demons kill us all, unless we stop her. There is so much I don't know but we have to try."  
"I'd tell you it was too dangerous, but you wouldn't listen," her father sighed. "You are so much like your mother." Maka tensed, a blush creeping over her face. "I wish I could help you, but I haven't been active in exorcist society for years. But I know someone who is, and has been compiling knowledge of demons and bonds for years. He knows people who know people. He could help you."  
"I didn't come here for your help," she felt the need to clarify. "Or your permission."  
"But I'm offering it anyway," her father retorted.

Maka smiled slowly. For the first time in a long time, she felt at peace with her father, just a little. "Then I accept."  
"But Maka.... Please tell me things more. I know I snother you, but it's because you're all that matters," he told her, placing a hand over hers on the table.  
Maka nodded slowly. "I'll try."

"Oh. And before I forget, you got mail," he told her. This sparked her interest, because almost all her mail went to her residence with Blair. All except the postcards. He led her back through the house to the foyer, where he kept a messy basket full of mail. A lot of it was junk, but next to it was a postcard. 

Maka picked it up carefully, as if it were fragile. The picture was beautiful: a range of beautiful, vast snowy mountains overlooking a lake as blue as the sky. She turned it over.

"Dearest Maka,

Greetings from New Zealand! This is as far south as I have ever been, I think. One day I will bring you here. It's truly a hidden paradise. I hope your final year of school is treating you well! Savor every day, even the bad ones, because today will never come again and tomorrow is always calling. Love you always, 

Mama."

Maka smiled fondly, leaning against the wall as she read. Her father was tidying the coat rack, pretending not to be interested. It was hard for Maka not to blame him for the circumstances which led to postcards being Maka's primary form of communication with her mother. But sometimes, if she took a few shots of tequila first, she didn't mind him sometimes. He was trying. Trying way too hard, and in all the wrong ways, but.... Trying nonetheless.

Sometimes she tried to imagine what it was like when her parents fell in love. Before all the cheating and the heartbreak. They were both firefighters, and met on a firetruck in 1994, on her Mama's first day on the job. It was romantic, the way they would have looked out for each other on the job. For a long time, Maka hadn't believed in love, because how could two people as in love as her parents fall apart? Now, she wasn't sure what she believed, but she was determined not to let their example carve her path for her.

Maka slipped the card into her pocket carefully. "Thanks for talking to me, Papa. And..." She swallowed her pride. "And please put me in contact with your guy. I appreciate your help."  
Mistake. Her father took the opportunity to crush her in another hug, just about pushing her lungs out of her mouth. "Oh, anything for you my Maka!"  
"You're crushing me," she wheezed, and he put her down.  
"Do you want me to call you a cab?" He asked her, his hands on her shoulders again in that way of his. "It's a long walk home."

"I don't mind the walk," she admitted truthfully. "My house is a bit crowded these days." And it would be even worse now that Crona was taking shelter, not to mention Blackstar and Tsubaki would be spending a lot of time there. "It's nice to have some downtime by myself."  
"If you say so," Spirit said reluctantly as he opened the door for her. "Just, don't let that demon of yours give you any trouble," he warned, obviously suspicious.  
"I'll try," she snorted.  
"And I'll have to meet him, of course."  
"Don't say stuff like that! He's not my boyfriend," Maka blurted defensively. "He'll probably be back in hell once all this mess is sorted." She tried not to flinch at her own words.  
"Well he's an idiot if he'd rather--"  
"Goodbye, Papa," Maka interrupted, patting his hand.  
"And say hello to Blair for me," he added with a whistful sigh.  
Maka pulled a face and stepped outside. "Absolutely not."

She made her way down the path, her father shouting parting words of love and affection at her back. Though usually she would be high-tailing it out of there, but before she disappeared behind the hedge, she gave him a wave.

Not three minutes after leaving, her phone began to buzz in her pocket. She struggled to free it, barely pausing to check the caller. It was BlackStar. "Hello?" She answered. It was highly unusual for him to call.  
"Maka, when are you coming home? Blair is at work and nobody knows how to cook." It was Soul.  
Maka sighed. "Blackstar does, he's just being an ass. There's ground beef in the fridge, tell him to throw some pasta on. There's Bolognese sauce in the cabinet beside the microwave."  
"Oh. Cool." There was a long silence. "How'd it go?"  
Maka clenched her free fist, the reality of her identity crashing back to her. "I... I got the answers I was looking for. I'll tell you when I'm home, okay?"  
"If you want."  
"And don't let BlackStar burn our house down," she chortled.  
"Eh, what's a little fire when you're from hell?" She could hear the grin in his voice.

Which reminded her. "Soul, there is a way. To send you home. I don't know exactly how yet, but I think we will very soon. I thought you should know."  
He hesitated a moment. "Cool. Want me to go get soda?"  
Maka couldn't help but smile. "No, I'll get it. It's on my way--"

Maka was cut off, because an arm shot put from behind the construction fencing she was passing and took her by the collar. In one heave, she was snatced from the path and through a gap in the fence, landing in a heap among the dust. Her arm caught a stack of grey bricks as she fell, tumbling to a stop on her side. Her arm throbbed.

She gasped in pain, propping herself up onto her elbow. Faintly, she heard Soul calling out to her over the phone, which she was lying on. Her eyes followed the tracks of her fall along the ground, up to the fence, where a familiar figure blocked the exit, pulling the temporary fencing shut. The fabric coverings hid them from the street, leaving her alone with the demon who had attacked her at school, on the night of the hunt.

Judging by the look in his eye, she had seconds before he descended on her. As he looked down to loop a chain through the fence, she shoved her phone in the gap between two bricks, the microphone end near her face. As he turned back to her, she held her sore arm, trying to sit up and put her face as close to the phone as she could without arousing suspicions. 

"This is the convenience store being constructed two blocks from my father's house. What do you want with me?" She hoped Soul caught it. Prayed, even. If she got out of this alive, perhaps she would be able to contemplate the irony of praying to demons.

The slow, deliberate footsteps of her assailant sent her heartbeat racing. He leaned down and took her collar to hold her against the ground, dropping to one knee and producing a vicious, serrated switch knife from his boot. The look in his eye was wild and furious. "I want you to tell me whose demon came to your aid last time we met."  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Maka spat through clenched teeth. The demon took his knife and pressed the point against her collarbone, exposed by his fist tugging her collar. Slowly, he drew the knife along her skin. She clenched her jaw, but she couldn't help the cry of agony. The jagged edge dragged her skin, and she felt hot blood drip over her shoulder to the ground. He pressed his knee to her stomach and clapped his hand over her mouth.

"Try to surrender your information quietly. It would be inconvenient to pause my interrogation just to kill some meddling mortals," he growled with a sickening grin that told her he wouldn't mind killing mortals at all.  
"I'll do you one better and not surrender it at all," Maka hissed.  
"No?" He stuck out his lip, as if considering it, then jabbed the knife tip into her other shoulder, twirling the handle in his fingers. Maka gasped and squirmed in his grip, clenching her eyes shut. Worse still, she knew every wound would be hers to share with Soul. But this demon didn't know who had helped her, and he didn't know that she was bonded. He was assuming it was someone else's demon. She steeled herself on the hope that her endurance was buying Soul time to find her. The demon made another cut beside the first, taking his time carving the scar. "Feel like talking yet?"

Maka reached with her left arm towards the brick pile her phone was hidden in, and her shaking fingers closed around a half brick. Before he could realise what she was doing, the brick collided with his cheekbone. Maka cried out in fury and hit him again, using his lack of balance and her element of surprise to flip him off her. The brick collided with his head a third time, in the temple. A hit that would cripple most humans, but still only sent his head spinning. She scrambled away, blood staining her shirt as she clapped her hand over the wound. 

Her pain bounced back and forth with Soul's, and it was this throbbing that made her notice the tug for the first time. She could feel it stronger and stronger, like muffled music from a building that she was walking towards. Or, in this case, the building was coming for her. She could feel it. She just needed to hold out.

The demon staggered to his feet and Maka didn't give him a chance to recover right away: she squared her stance and kicked him straight in the ear. She wasn't tall, but he was keeled over, and she had to admit it: it was important to her pride that she hold her own until help arrived. She wasn't helpless, after all. This was what she had trained for.

"The bird's got a pair of legs," he grunted, impressed but not happy. In fact, he sounded like he wanted to murder her. Probably because he did want to murder her. He lunged for Maka, and she dodged the first swing, plunging an elbow under his arm and into his ribs. She kicked his shin hard, planted her hands on the back of his head, and drove her knee right between his eyes.

As he stood, she felt his mood shift. It was palpable. Her pride swelled slightly. Caught without her school satchel and without Soul, she had held her own against a demon. Kneed him in the face. This surge of pride ended the moment he lunged faster than her eye could even process and slammed her against the wall of the half-built store behind her, knocking all her breath from her body. While she was still reeling, he flung her to the ground with such force that she bounced and rolled. He was upon her in a second, gripping her jaw with one hand like a vice. Her teeth cut into her tongue.

"If you don't tell me right the fuck now, I will feed you in chunks to a pack of dogs, and you will be alive to watch until all your blood spills out of your body," he screamed in her face, his spit flying. The tug from Soul was strong now, and faintly she could hear an engine down the street. "If you do tell me, I'll find the mercy within myself to kill you before I start chopping." 

The engine passed them, and Maka's heart dropped, until she heard it stop just before it fell out of earshot. To keep his attention from it, she struggled violently, earning herself a punch to the gut. Her eyes watered and she just about vomited, but it had worked. He didn't even glance away.

"Last chance, Goldilocks," he twirled the knife between his fingers.  
Behind him, she saw three people scrambling onto the roof that stood just above the eastern fencing of the construction lot. A tall, dark-haired girl; a thin, pastel-haired teenager, and a third, dropping quietly to the dirt. She returned her gaze to the man crouched above her and smiled, tasting blood in her mouth.  
His voice shook with fury. "Whose. Demon. Was. It?" He had made a crucial miscalculation, one that made her laugh as she finally answered him with a surge of giddy, unabashed pride.

"Mine."


	18. The Taste Of Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A general warning for Giriko sadism in this chapter

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA stallion," BlackStar shouted as Soul dropped the phone onto the table and burst from his seat so quickly that the chair flew into the wall. "Be careful with the equipment! What's the big deal?"

Soul didn't hear him. He was stomping for the door. Though he had no idea how, he was going to get in a vehicle and head to.... He paused. He had no idea where Maka's father lived, at all. His panic, already unbearable, almost toppled him. 

Soul's hand flew to his neck and he hissed as a horrible, sharp pain stung his skin. Blood pooled against his shirt, and his eyes widened in horror. Nobody was hurting him, which meant someone was hurting Maka. He turned to BlackStar and took his shoulder in a vice grip. "Where does Maka's father live?"  
"What? Uh, uh... That gated place with all the fancy houses. Birch Avenue. In the part of this neighbourhood that's still nice... It's like six minutes that a'way," he pointed vaguely to the east, obviously distracted. "Why? And what the fuck happened to--" before Blackstar could touch his shoulder, Soul doubled over as another spot of blood bloomed on his other shoulder.  
"She's in trouble. These are hers," he explained, pointing to the blood. "We have to go now."

He heard the others follow him out into the street uninvited, with Tsubaki tearing herself from the soap operas she was watching, and Crona emerging from their corner, but he ignored them. A third pain, near the first, dragged down his skin, and he clenched his teeth through his groan of pain. He could feel Maka, and she was afraid.

Soul stepped right into the path of an oncoming vehicle, forcing the elderly man inside to slam his brakes only just in time. "Are you crazy!?" Wailed Crona, just about passing out. Soul just crossed to the window, which the man had wound down. 

He expected abuse, but the old man just said "I nearly hit you there fella, what's the rush?"  
He felt Tsubaki crane over his shoulder, waving enthusiastically at the man's wife in the passenger seat. "We need to get somewhere very fast. It's an emergency. Can you help us? We need to find a place near Birch Avenue."  
"It's in the nice part of town," Tsubaki added happily.  
"Oh, well an emergency! Why don't you kids hop in. Oh, but i'm 'fraid we only have three--" 

He was cut off at Soul opened the door, tossing Tsubaki into the back and throwing a protesting Crona after her. Soul was halfway in when BlackStar caught his arm.  
"Whoa, wait up, let me--"  
"Sorry. Demons get priority on rescue missions," Soul shrugged, shutting the door. Blackstar began shouting, but it was inaudible through the window as the car drove off. 

For his niceties, the man was a lead foot. Thank fuck. "So chickens, what's the big rush?" Asked the wife conversationally, smiling over her shoulder. Soul panicked, struggling to think of a suitable excuse for his behaviour that wouldn't freak them out. He looked to Crona, who had their head in their hands as they likely fought to keep Ragnarok from bursting out and terrifying their chauffeurs. Then he looked to Tsubaki, who paled, flapped her hands nervously, then blurted, "M-my wife is giving birth!"

Soul's jaw dropped. If possible, Crona's head sank even further into their hands in utter despair. Tsubaki mouthed "I don't know!" As the wife raised her eyebrows.  
"Well... We wouldn't want you to miss that!" Soul would have melted with relief that they accepted the excuse. "Isn't it marvellous, Ian?"  
"Absolutely, Fern."

As if Death himself was looking out for them, they didn't catch a single red light. His knee throbbed suddenly, and though he wanted to flick his ear, it wouldn't do any good. All he could do was hope she was holding her own, and that she would do so long enough for help to arrive. 

Blackstar wasn't kidding: this part of town really was nicer. Most houses had gates, and sometimes entire laneways of houses all shared a gate. The gardens were kept, the lawns green. None of it under construction. 

"Where abouts near Birch are we looking, lads?" Asked the driver cheerfully. Soul gripped the handle ok the door, craning his neck.  
"A construction site," he said, hoping at least one of them would spot it.  
"Your wife is giving birth at a construction site?" Asked Fern, furrowing her brow.  
"We're... eclectic," Tsubaki reassured her distractedly.  
"Where do you get this stuff?" Soul hissed. The girl had only been in this damn dimension for a day.  
"Is that it?" Cut in Crona, pointing past Soul and down a street. At the very end, on the road parallel to the one they were on, stood a block with temporary fencing, sheets of pale fabric covering the view inside.  
"Stop!" Shouted Soul, and Ian hit the brakes. "End of this street."

The trip down that road seemed far slower than it had any right to be, but Soul still had Ian pull up a few lots down from the construction. "Thank you again for all your help."  
"Oh, it's no trouble for nice kids such as yourselves," hummed Fern as they piled out onto the sidewalk. Soul's scalp burned. Fern turned to Tsubaki. "And congratulations!"  
"T-thank you!" She laughed nervously.

As the couple drove off, Tsubaki whistled quietly. "They were so nice!"  
"Too nice," chimed in Crona.  
"Must be Canadian," added Ragnarok, who was finally allowed out.  
"Come on," Soul hissed, making his way over to the house beside the construction lot. "Climb up on this awning. We have to see what's happening."  
"Can't we just burst in?" Ragnarok whined.  
"Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'look before you leap'?" Soul grunted as he jumped, catching the low roof edge and hauling himself up.

The others followed suit, but Soul craned his neck to see inside. And sure enough, there were two people in the dirt inside the fence, in the shadow of the half-built storefront. And he knew exactly who it was, holding Maka to the ground. "I'll handle this," he growled, not waiting for their permission or agreement before he slid over the edge of the roof and landed in the dust as quietly as he could. Slowly he approached, the scuffling of Maka's sneakers as she tried to push away covering his approach.

Giriko, the demon, was asking Maka about a demon. Probably about Soul. It explains why he hadn't killed her right away: he wanted to know whose demon had bested him the first time he attacked Maka. He was about to get deja vu.

Soul was now standing directly behind Giriko, and his blood was roaring so loudly in his veins that it was a miracle the other demon hadn't heard him yet. His fury seemed like a bottomless pit, twitching the ends of his fingers with unspent energy, and yet... Something cut through it. Maka's feet stopped scuffling and the feeling that spilled from her made Soul pause, even in this situation. It was.... Pride. 

"Mine." It took Soul approximately one second to jump into action after she spoke. It wasn't that he was hesitating about drop kicking Giriko into another dimension (literally). It was just that he was pretty sure that she was talking about him and he had never had anyone speak like that about him before. And he kind of wanted her to keep doing it.

Giriko was heavy, but it wasn't much of a problem for Soul to rip him away from Maka by the back of the shirt and toss him overhead, straight into the brick wall nearby. He collided like a sack of potatoes, and Soul shouted "We have to stop meeting like this," after him, just to rub it in a little, before crouching next to Maka to help her sit up.

"You sure cut it close," she smiled at him, one side of her white rows of teeth stained with blood. He could taste it too. She must have bitten her tongue.  
"I'm too cool to be punctual," he grinned at her. He was playing it cool, but it wasn't until she laughed that he was overcome with relief. Until now he had been working with the worst case scenario, that any moment she might die. Now he was here, it wasn't going to happen; he was sure of it. 

Soul stood and helped Maka up, keeping her close at his side as he produced his scythe. She might be alive, but she was looking worse for wear. He held the weapon out to her, and she stared. "You want me to use this?" Across the yard, Giriko was producing his own weapon. Last time he had used a chain, but this time, a hefty saw was in his hands.  
"He's going to go for you before he goes for me. He knows about the bond now, and he'll use it," Soul reminded her. Maka took to polearm carefully with a nod. "As soon as he's distracted enough, get to Tsubaki and Crona."  
"What? I'm not leaving you down here alone!" Maka protested as the saw roared to life across the yard. "He might kill you!" Almost as an afterthought, she corrected "Us. Kill us."  
"I got the guy once, I can do it again," Soul reminded her. She was chewing her lip in thought. It was impossibly distracting, so he turned away... Just in time to pull them both out of the way as Giriko lunged across the yard, swinging his weapon with malice.

"I'll have you know I was holding him off quite well before you showed up," she grunted as they stumbled to regain their balance.  
"My collarbones say otherwise," he reminded her, pointing to the bloodied marks staining his shirt. Maka muttered something about his collarbones saying things, but he didn't quite catch it because they had to dodge another attack. Maka went right and Soul went left, and now Giriko was between them.  
"Who wants to die first?" Giriko laughed, looking between them as they backed away. Soul was aware that he now had his back to Crona and Tsubaki, and Maka was on the far side from them. Damn. "No volunteers?"

"Why don't you show us how it's done, you mangy freak?" Soul lunged for Giriko as he turned towards Maka, elbowing his arm to throw his saw off balance. Without his scythe, his next options were fists. He landed a blow to the back of the other demon's head, another to his ribs, then threw an arm across his back to topple him forward as he swept his foot under the other demon's ankles. Giriko caught himself before falling, but it was enough for Soul to slip past him and get to Maka.

"We need to end this quickly," Maka told him. "We don't want to draw attention from the authorities, and people in nice neighbourhoods practically have the police on speed dial. We need Tsubaki and Crona."  
Soul tried not to pout. "Kinda wanted to mince him myself, ya know?"  
Maka scowled. "This is not the time for theatrics--" she was cut off as Giriko lunged again, but this time he was closer, and Soul was distracted. Maka had to step in and block the blow with the scythe's pole before it could hit Soul.

She was probably right. This guy had obviously pulled out the stops this time, and if he got away, they'd lose a precious headstart before Medusa learned of their bond. Their party idea might be jeopardized if she was actively hunting them down. Soul kicked Giriko straight in the gut and he stumbled backwards, but recovered quickly. He lunged for Soul, but faked to Maka, narrowly missing her neck as she brought the scythe up just in time. The force of the hit made her fumble and drop the weapon, and they both had to fall out of the way of another swing, hitting the ground together.

"Shit!" He heard her swear, and without thinking he snatched her and threw them both into a roll, with milliseconds to spare as the saw hit the dirt, spraying dust everywhere. Way too close. Maka was coughing on top of him; he had to get her out of harm's way. He didn't have a lot of time. He just took her by the waist and threw her. She landed a few feet away, shouting angrily at him as she flailed in the dirt, but now Soul was free to get at their attacker. He scrambled to his feet, dove for the scythe, and swung it in a low arc to slice Giriko's legs.

"Get her!" He shouted over his shoulder to Crona and Tsubaki. Like a fountain, blood spurted from Giriko's leg. The demon whirled, yelling with fury, casting aside his saw to tackle Soul to the ground. His hands closed around Soul's neck, almost snapping it then and there. He had no idea what was happening behind him. His scythe, trapped between their bodies, was useless. Giriko picked Soul up by the neck only to slam his head back against the ground, causing his vision to swim. 

"If I cut you, I cut you both!" he howled manically, his laughter echoing oddly against the empty building beside them. As their skin contacted, the venom in his thoughts leaked into Soul's conscious. 

It was a thing demons could do: sense an inner purpose in each other. Giriko was probably seeing sonatas, while all Soul saw were scenes of gore and torture. He felt the desire to shred Maka's skin ooze from Giriko's very spirit, seeing the knife cuts she had suffered earlier repeating over and over again. His fingers closing around her neck. Saw chains wrapped around her thighs, cutting into soft flesh. Soul had felt it the last time he and Giriko had encountered each other, but now the malice was more personal than ever. 

Soul couldn't think of what else to do, but he had to make it stop. He couldn't take another moment of those images in his head. With nothing else for it, and very limited options, Soul did the only thing he could think of: he brought his knee up, right between the demon's legs. Dirty fighting, but it worked. Giriko threw himself off Soul with an animalistic howl... and right into Tsubaki, who wrapped the chain of a double-bladed weapon around Giriko's neck.

Soul coughed and sat up, checking for Maka with urgency that spun his head. Crona was standing beside her, shaking but holding a long black sword in their hand. Safe. He turned back to Tsubaki, who had her foot between Giriko's shoulderblades. It didn't last, though: the demon took the chain in both hands, either side of his head, and tugged so hard that Tsubaki was whipped over his head, toppling head over heels. Both of them were tangled, but Tsubaki still had her chain around his neck. She put her foot on his chest and pushed him away, while pulling the weapons toward herself. Giriko, looking a little purple, used his forearm to knock her leg away, and yanked the weapons. One came loose from her hand and he freed himself as Tsubaki scrambled back to her feet, stance at the ready. Soul picked up his own weapon and stood beside her.

Giriko laughed, wiping spit from his mouth as he regarded Tsubaki. His gaze slid lazily to Soul. "I think I like this one better. Bigger tits, ya know?"  
"Nobody cares what you think," Soul rolled his eyes.  
Giriko's saw re-materialized in his hands. "I'll kill them both nice and slow either way. I bet pigtails is a real cute crier."

Soul's temper flared and he lunged, forcing Giriko to retreat to avoid the scythe. Tsubaki moved to the right, flanking Giriko as he retreated. Soul didn't give him an opening to use the saw, using the advantage of his weapon's length. Finally, Giriko managed to knock the scythe aside with his saw, but by then it was too late: Tsubaki's weapon wrapped around his body, trapping his arms to his side at the elbow. His own saw gored his leg, forcing him to drop it. He screamed with fury as Tsubaki approached, keeping the chain pulled tight, and kicked the backs of his legs to send him to his knees.

"She will notice I'm gone soon enough, and I'll be back before you know it. I've got a date with your human all planned out. Just--" he was cut off as Soul kicked him square in the face, leaving his shoe pressed against his foe's nose.  
"If you don't have anything useful to say, just don't speak," Soul lectured him, pressing harder with his foot. "Touch her again if you want me to fold you like a fucking pretzel for a third time," he promised in a low voice, removing his foot and leveling his scythe behind Giriko's neck. "I wouldn't advise it, though."  
"That little c--"  
"G'bye," Soul interrupted whatever threat was coming by yanking the weapon toward himself, relieving Giriko's head of his shoulders.

As soon as the scythe cut through, Giriko dissolved, sinking back into the hell dimension. If he knew what was good for him, he'd stay there. Tsubaki's chains fell slack as the body they held disappeared.

"Are you guys okay?" Tsubaki asked, a sigh escaping her lips as she finally relaxed. "That guy was a maniac!"  
"Yeah, we've met him once before," Soul told her, moving for the gate in the fence. He didn't know if anyone knew Giriko's location, but they couldn't really afford to stick around just in case. There was a chain looped through the gate, but it was padlocked. He shook the chain, but it didn't budge.  
"Giriko had the key, I think," Maka told him, coming out of nowhere to appear at his side. Soul startled, and she apologized quietly as she dusted off her phone.  
"S' cool, we can just go over," he told her, then beckoned for the others. "We'll just go over. I'll give you a boost."

Tsubaki didn't need much help, as it turned out. She was tall enough to get a handle on the top of the fence, and being a demon, it wasn't much to haul herself over. Crona was tall, but not as strong, and Soul laced his fingers together to give them a step up to the fence. They flailed and tumbled awkwardly, but he heard Tsubaki catch them on the other side. 

"I'm sorry. I should have let you come with me," Maka said quietly.  
"Why are you apologizing for what someone else did?" Soul asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's not your fault."  
"I just feel guilty. I didn't have my satchel, I made all you guys come out here to bail me out. I made some bad choices," she explained. She was chewing her lip again.  
"The only one who made bad choices is the son of a bitch we just sent packing," he replied with more fire than he meant to. It was hard not to be angry when he couldn't look at her neck without seeing the purple hand-shaped bruises in Giriko's fantasies. Inadvertently, he touched her neck, just to confirm to himself that she was fine. It was the flood of embarassment and nervousness from Maka that made him realise what he was doing, and he withdrew his hand quickly. 

"Sorry. Um. Fence," he blurted. So uncool. He laced his fingers again and crouched for her. She put her hands on his shoulders, her foot in his hands, her knee by his face. He forced more Giriko recollections away from his mind and tried not to look at her legs as she stood in his hand and caught a hold of the fence, hauling herself over. As soon as she hit the sidewalk on the other side, Soul jumped for the fence and pulled himself up as Tsubaki had. Perks of being inhuman.

Soul was surprised to see, as he turned to comment on Tsubaki's combat, a blue blur approaching them in the mid distance. "Well would you look at that," he chortled, raising his eyebrows as Blackstar ran towards them at a steady pace.  
"I thought I was feeling unreasonably exhausted. I guess I know why," Tsubaki laughed. "What are you doing!?" She yelled to him. He responded, but it was unintelligible. "Sorry?" Tsubaki replied, holding her hand to her ear.  
"DID. I. MISS. IT?"  
"Not by much buddy," Soul called, trying not to laugh. It was a little bit funny. Should have used his hoverboard.

Maka was having a quiet conversation with Crona, which Soul didn't catch because of all the shouting. She took them in a hug, in which they looked absolutely flabbergasted, before releasing them with a pat on the shoulder. "We barely know each other and you risked your safety for me. That's good enough," she told them.

Sometimes she was too nice, but that's just how she was. At one point he'd been frustrated by it, but it didn't bother him so much anymore. If she'd put up with BlackStar for as long as he claimed she had, she must be a saint. 

"Finally, I got here," Blackstar panted, leaning on his knees for support.  
"Great work, dude, now turn around. We're going home," Soul patted his back sympathetically and began walking back the way BlackStar had come.  
"You're kidding," groaned the exorcist.  
"Next time we'll be sure to stop a car with enough seats," promised Tsubaki.  
"Speaking of... Your wife giving birth?" Soul questioned, raising an eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder.  
"What?" Asked Maka.  
"I-i panicked. I saw it on a tv show," Tsubaki muttered. "But they believed it!"  
"Well yeah, it's believable. It's the 21st century," snorted Soul. "Just be careful when mentioning that shit around the elderly. They get weird about it sometimes."  
"Why?" She asked, and both BlackStar and Maka chuckled. "Do they not like babies?"  
"It's a really long, stupid story," Maka sighed. "I'll tell you on the way home."  
"And while you're at it," Tsubaki added, "Who the hell was that guy?!"

Maka and Soul did their best to explain on the long walk home. After all their effort, none of them felt like rushing.


	19. Like It's 1999

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this took me way longer than it usually does because this chapter is CHONKY. Very likely the longest chapter yet. It contains a LOT of inner monologue and a little bit more emotional drama than we're used to here, but I figure I should start getting into that so the real shit can go down.
> 
> As usual, my proofread job was very rough because I do everything at the last minute and I wanna get this out ASAP. So if my lovely bookmarkers see notes for minor edits in the next few days, that's what's up.

"This is totally going to crash and burn," Soul laughed, leaning against the wall to nosey at Maka's clothes as she rifled through her closet.  
"Don't be negative!" She scolded, glancing up from her clothes. "Everyone has put in so much effort to make this work."  
"Your entire plan is to tell your cohort that fantasy is reality. You're going to sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist. You know that, right?" He raised an eyebrow at her.  
"Well if they don't believe me I can always show them our matching scars," she teased, poking his collarbone before returning to flicking through her clothes. "Oh. I found my dress. Out!" She commanded, shooing Soul from the room.

Dress. Singular. She had owned it for years, and had never bothered to bring the rest of her stuff from her Papa's house because she never had an occasion to wear nice clothes. It was knee length, made from black fabric with a lace overlay. An elegant high neckline would really compliment a string of pearls... If she owned one. Looking at it, she wasn't too happy, but it was all she had.

She struggled with the zip, but got there in the end. Not knowing what to do with her hair, she left it up. God, she hoped this plan would work. She was a little worried about Blair's involvement, given her history of going overboard. Maka had told Blackstar and Blair no alcohol, but it was doubtful whether they would actually listen. With a spark of an idea, Maka took an electric blue blazer from her closet and slipped it over the dress. Blazers were professional; people were more likely to listen to her if she dressed well, right?

The logic seemed sound, but when she stepped out of her room, Blair dropped the hairdryer she was carrying down the hall and screamed. "Mew look like a politician at her own funeral!" She exclaimed, her jaw hanging agape like a suffocating fish.  
"What? No, it's..." Maka looked down. "Okay, you might be right," she admitted, shrugging off the blazer. "Better?"  
"Is that the only dress you own?" Blair raised an eyebrow.  
"No. Maybe. Okay, yes," Maka sighed. 

Soul rounded the corner after Blair with a packet of Doritos in hand. "Whoa Maka, who died?"  
"You should be getting ready too, you know," Maka snapped, her irritation flaring.  
Blair groaned and marched forward to take Maka by the wrist. "Just come on in."

Tsubaki was already inside, tugging at the hem of a lavender sheath dress. Her hair was loose, and she looked like a damn Instagram model. "Whoa," Maka whistled. "Leave some thunder for the rest of us Tsubaki!" She was halfway through laughing when she felt the zip at the back of her dress tug down. "Blair!"  
"I can't work with this wakewear in my way," she complained with a pout, prodding at Maka until she removed the black dress. She had to double check that the door was closed first. 

"I don't have a lot that would accommodate for your uh...." Blair trailed off, obviously searching for an inoffensive way to tell Maka she had a flat chest. Apparently drawing blanks, she hastily turned back to her closet. She threw a dress at Maka that turned out to be a shirt, then a strappy sequin dress that not only had a broken zipper, but also left her still-angry scars on display.  
"You have a lot of clothes for someone who wears towels all the time," Maka finally commented, amazed that Blair fit so much in there.  
"It's a blessing and a-- oh!" She giggled with delight as she produced something in a pale, cornflower blue. It was a halter neck, but the front panel looked wide enough to cover the cuts. The stretchy fabric had a ribbed texture. "This could work! We would need to dress it up a little to bring it out of the casual zone and into the fun zone, though," she tapped her chin in thought. "I'll figure something out. Try it on!"

Maka wasn't sure. She didn't wear a lot of blue. But by the time she had the waist zipper done and the button on the neck fastened, she was convinced. The ribbed fabric hugged to her body, so the difference between Blair and Maka's chests didn't matter. The halter neck mostly covered the cuts, and the fabric hugged tight down to her waist, then flared out into a circular skirt. The skirt was a little too short for comfort, especially since a decent breeze could potentially kick it up, but Maka had bike shorts she could use. It was an upgrade from the lace dress, for sure.

Blair picked up what looked like a marker, and tried to stab Maka in the eye with it. "What are you doing!?"  
Blair blinked. "...Eyeliner?"  
"I don't need makeup," Maka scoffed.  
"No, you don't, but it's fun right?" Blair grinned and raised her eyeliner again.  
"Not if I don't like it!" Maka protested.  
"Awww, puhleaaaaase? I never had a little sister to experiment on."  
"You calling this an experiment doesn't leave me with a lot of confidence," Maka pointed out. Then, with a sigh, she said "Nothing too much, okay? I don't want to have to spend three hours cleaning my face before I can sleep.  
"You are such a drama queen. Fine, sit down," Blair sighed, whipping out a little tin palette of eyeliner

Blair spent the better part of twenty minutes dabbing Maka's eyelids with powder, turning her head back and forth to check the eyeliner was even, and doing something weird to her eyebrows. Once she was done, she turned to Tsubaki and asked "Hair down?" while tugging the elastics from Maka's pigtails.Blair tried to fluff, but Maka's hair still had a kink in it from being tied. Blair huffed with a pout.  
"Hang on," Maka sighed, holding out her hand for one of the elastics. She took a small section of hair from above each ear, twirled them twice each, then tied them together behind her head. The strands mostly hid the kinked line. "Better?"  
"Hm. I'll allow it," she giggled, then looked at Maka's feet. "My feet are a different size so you're on your own there, kitten. Don't disrespect my garment by wearing those ugly clodhoppers you call school shoes, Kay?" Blair chattered as she pushed Maka towards the door. Suddenly embarassed, Maka fought it.  
"Uh... Can't I stay here and hang out with you guys?" She didn't want to walk out there alone looking like a painted doll.  
"You got stuff to do, missy! And you still need shoes," Blair gave her a wink she did NOT like, and unceremoniously pushed Maka into the hall.

Maka heard the TV going as she hurried into her room and flung open her closet. The first thing she did was thrown on some tight shorts to go under her skirt. The next thing was to put in a pair of drop earrings with a black bauble on the end of each. Then, she went diving for shoes, fearing for her life should she attempt to leave the house in Blair's dress with subpar footwear.

She had a neat shoe rack with all her pairs in canvas bags to keep dust off. This had the unfortunate disadvantage of forcing her to open each bag to see what she had. The dust in her closet made her eyes itch, but she had to resist; if she ruined Blair's work she would never hear the end of it. Most of her shoes were sneakers, slippers, or dress shoes so old and unused that they would be lucky to have been worn once before going out of fashion. Then, finally, she found a bag shoved under the shoe rack and produced a pair of strappy black heels that Blair had given her the year before, because she had ordered the wrong size by accident. 

As she fastened the straps, her stomach growled. Amongst her stress and the mental rehearsals of the things she might say to break the big news to her classmates, she had forgotten to eat. There wasn't much in the house, but cereal was always and option, provided Soul hadn't eaten all the good stuff.

She marched to the kitchen, getting used to the feel of walking so far up off the ground. Thankfully the heels were not too extreme, but she still felt precariously close to falling over with every step. Her instinct was to walk as stiffly as possible, but that only made it worse. Stupid things. She hadn't even left the house yet and she was already sick of them. 

A glance told her that while the TV was running, nobody was watching it. Maka rolled her eyes. "Soul, turn it off if you're not watching it! Electricity isn't free!" At least the cereal cupboard was easier to reach than usual, thanks to her newly acquired height. Unfortunately, the container was empty, so she found herself straining for the new box that had been stored on top of the fridge with all the other stuff they couldn't fit in the cupboards. She groaned in frustration, as she discovered that nothing in reach was her target. Standing on her toes didn't make much difference since she was already there in the shoes she wore, anyway. Her fingers grasped a box that felt like a cereal box, and she tugged it into view only to find it was actually a bulk pack of crackers.

Before the irritation could boil over, the strangest thing happened. As she looked up at the crackers, a giddy feeling washed over her as she grasped the box, feeling a throb of affection and desire in her gut that seemed to squeeze like a fist around her diaphragm. Maka paused with a frown as she studied the box, while the feeling made her neck and face flush with heat. Just how hungry was she? Then, the feeling waned and blurred in a familiar fashion that betrayed its origin, and Maka looked over her shoulder. Soul was standing at the end of the hallway, looking at her. And in his hands....

"Are you kidding me?!" Maka cried, pointing an accusatory finger at the cereal box he held. "Are you eating those dry?"  
"It's a snack," he muttered defensively.  
"Well you're wasting it and I'm hungry," she pouted. "Hand it over."  
"Jeez, okay boss," Soul rolled his eyes, throwing her the box. 

Maka fumbled to catch it before it went everywhere, narrowly avoiding disaster. A peek inside told her he had eaten a good third of the cereal already, and that wasn't counting the first box that this was supposed to be the backup for! She sighed and looked up to tell him to stop eating so much, but he had disappeared again. Her eyes lingered on the spot where he had stood, but in the end, it would be invasive to just hunt him down and pry into his feelings unprompted. It would also involve a lot more emotional labor than she had time for right now. So, she settled for wolfing down as much cereal as she could before their ride arrived. 

When BlackStar showed up with Ox, Maka raised a brow at the two of them. They presented a harsh juxtaposition: Ox was dressed like he was about to sit in an orchestra, with a tailored, cobalt blue vest and dress pants with gold buttons and polished leather shoes. BlackStar was.... Less refined, in a mint green tank that read "emperor of the shindig" under a graphic of a gold crown, and he wore jean shorts covered in rips and chains. Gold high-top sneakers flashed with blue LED lights as he wiped his feet on the door mat. Maka had never seen him take the care to do this before, which made her think he was only doing it to show off the feature.

Tsubaki, apparently having sensed her partner's arrival, pranced out of Blair's room to greet them. "I'm excited for my first party. How did Crona go?"  
"About that," BlackStar laughed nervously. "I tried to give them cool clothes but they picked my culinary arts uniform from the tenth grade. Something is seriously up with that kid's sense of style."  
"Pot, meet kettle," Maka laughed, standing from her seat at the table to put her bowl in the sink. Blackstar blinked at her, then squinted.  
"You're wearing a dress," he pointed out. "And makeup."  
"Very astute of you to notice," she teased, poking her tongue out at him.  
"Soul's gonna pop a nose bleed," he snorted. Maka's hand froze momentarily over the faucet before she recovered and turned the water on.

"I hope your car has enough seats, Ox," Maka changed the subject, leaving her rinsed bowl in the sink. That bowl could be future Maka's problem. "There are a few of us."  
BlackStar clapped his hands in excitement suddenly, making Tsubaki jump. "Wait until you see it. It's terrible."  
"Excuse me," snapped Ox, "I believe it got you here."  
Blackstar ignored it and instead clapped his hands. "Blair, Soul! Party express leaves in two minutes, hurry it up!" He grumbled and checked his phone for the time. "Party is already well underway and I'm standing around in a kitchen across town."

Blair came out first, in a black wiggle dress with slits on each thigh. It was very Blair. She moved audibly, and Maka noticed she was wearing a black collar with a gold nutbell on it to match all the gold bangles covering her wrists. "Isn't anyone going to tell me I look pretty?" She asked, pouting as everyone stood in silence, mostly on their phones.  
"Not as pretty as Kim," Ox sighed. "I bet she is being romanced in my absence," he bemoaned dejectedly.  
"I dunno who that is but you sound boring," Blair dismissed with a wave of her hand, fluffing her hair in the hall mirror.

Soul arrived last, still fastening the buttons on a dark burgundy dress shirt that hung untucked from dark, tight jeans. His hair was as messy as ever, but pushed out of his face with a thin band. He was struggling with the buttons on the cuffs as everyone shuffled towards the door. Maka didn't really have a nice bag, so she had packed her school bag with a change of comfy clothes in case she stayed the night, her phone, and a water bottle. She picked it up from its spot by the door and they all filed out, down the path towards.... The most ancient minivan Maka had ever seen. 

"This thing was doing grocery trips back when polio was still a thing," BlackStar introduced with a cackled.  
Feeling bad, Maka turned to Ox and said "Thanks for giving us a lift." He seemed to appreciate it... Or at least she took that to be what his nod meant.

They piled into the seven seater, with BlackStar and Ox in the front two seats and Blair's and Tsubaki taking the two by the doors, leaving Maka and Soul to share the three seats at the back. Maka still wasn't sure what to do with Soul after the wordless incident in the kitchen, so she was glad that they could sit with a seat between them. Right up until she saw an odd, dark stain on the window seat, and the smell of damp dirt assaulted her nose. "Ox, is this seat wet?"  
"Oh, yes. My terrarium for biology fell over this morning. The other seat should be alright," he called over his shoulder as he started the van up, the engine crunching with a concerning sound. With little other choice, she sat down in the middle seat next to Soul, fastening her seatbelt quickly. Soul was busy fiddling with the cuffs on his sleeves, as though they bothered him.

"You could just roll them up, you know," Maka pointed out, after a few moments.  
"Wouldn't that look weird?" He asked with scepticism.  
Maka shrugged and turned in her seat, unbuttoning the cuff closest to her. "Sleeves down is a bit more formal. Here," she told him, folding the sleeve back on itself and tugging the unbuttoned cuff up until it rested above his elbow, a quarter of the way up his upper arm. "Pull the cuff up to just past where you want the fold to be, and then fold the rest over itself until you get there." She folded the fabric up until the last fold went over the cuff, so the very top of the cuff peeked out from behind the fold. "Just do the other arm."  
"Huh. Guess it's fine," he admitted, and got to work copying her method on the other arm until they rested above his elbows.  
Blair leaned over the arm of her chair, inspecting the result. "Maka, how come you can dress him well but you can't dress yourself?"  
Maka blushed and opened her mouth, but couldn't think of an effective response to that. In the end, she muttered "I did my own hair," in defeat.  
Soul surprised her by saying "Looks nice" as he stared out the window at passing cars. Maka mumbled her thanks while staring daggers at Blair, who was waggling her eyebrows.

The car ride was only about five minutes. BlackStar lived with his adoptive father Sid, Maka's gym teacher. It was kind of weird going to a party at a teacher's house, but conveniently, many of the teachers were at a conference interstate over the weekend, so they would have the place to themselves. Maka really hoped it wouldn't get out from control before she could grasp an opportunity to break the news to people. The closer they got to the house, the more unsure she became. But how else would she be able to recruit everyone quickly, without doing it at school? She didn't have a load of options, and it felt as through Medusa was breathing down her neck. 

Was Giriko still in hell? They had really sent him packing last time he had attacked her, but she didn't think it would make a lot of difference. It seemed that all it would take is a witch noticing his absence and bringing him back again. What was worse, he seemed the type to hold grudges. Soul had uttered some impressive threats before executing Giriko, but Maka had her doubts that they would deter him. 'Touch her again if you want me to fold you like a fucking pretzel' were the words he had used. Threats of violence should not make her feel the way those words did. She quickly put it out of her mind.

At least the witches didn't know of BlackStar's role in all this, though with the amount of days he had taken off just in the past week, he wasn't exactly being conspicuous. It was all they could do to stop him shouting from the rooftops. Still, when they pulled up to the generous suburban house, there were no raids. Only lively classmates chatting on the lawn and loud music pumping from inside.

"Party bus has arrived," declared BlackStar, spilling from the vehicle with barely a care to shut the door after him. Blair pulled the roller door open and held it for Tsubaki, followed by Maka. Blair flung her arm out to stop Maka before she could step out, and produced something from her bag. A gold tube of lipstick.  
"I know you said nothing heavy, but the dress really calls for it," she promised. "Trust me kitten," she added, with a wink that Maka wasn't sure she liked. Soul squeezed past, leaving Blair to paint red lipstick on Maka in peace.

Inside, the house was crowded already. It seemed odd to be turning up to a party she had organised after all the guests, but the informality of the affair was exactly as it had been advertised to her when BlackStar had taken the responsibility. Maka was used to parties where a pianist plucked quiet easy listening tunes in a corner and everyone drank expensive wine. Blair disappeared towards the kitchen, where a makeshift bar was rapidly getting out of hand. At least Blair knew how to serve it. "Go heavy on the mixers!" Maka called after her. Whether or not she heard would remain to be seen.

Maka quickly noticed that her friends had dispersed on her. Tsubaki and Soul had followed BlackStar into the house, and Blair was in the kitchen. Ox passed her, but he was already beelining for Kim. Great. With not much else to do, Maka set about exploring. She would scope out a good spot to break the big news. 

Situated on a hill, the house was actually two storey, with the street entrance opening into the upper floor. A flight of stairs by the kitchen took her down into an open plan living space, where people were playing Gran Turismo on a massive media setup on one side, and a dancefloor had been established on the other. Behind glass sliding doors was an outdoor swimming pool and the backyard, which would be shaded in the day by the massive tree that stood behind the house. 

Noticing that all areas seemed to be flooded with people, Maka opted for a hallway. It seemed to lead through to a stained glass door, so it was likely a side entrance of some kind. With knots of anxiety forming in her gut by the second, it would be nice to have a place to sit down and rehearse her impossible speech. As she walked down the dark hall and the sounds of the party behind her faded, she noticed a door was slightly ajar, with light spilling into the hallway. Curious, she listened as she passed.

"--on high alert, it's obvious someone here knows something." A girl's voice she had never heard before.  
"All these strangers showing up out of the blue inclines me to believe so, but we must gather information discreetly," said a calm voice, a young male. Somewhat familiar. "We don't want to alert anyone. The last thing we need is fresh bonded demons catching our scent and panicking."

Maka tensed. Who were these people? They knew about bonded demons. A thread of panic wove its way into her heart and tightened. She couldn't expose demon bonding tonight, because who else could these people be except witch spies? The witches had sent spies to watch student gatherings. No matter, all she would have to do was not give her speech and get BlackStar to end the party as soon as possible. She would figure out some other way. 

"Well we might as well enjoy ourselves while we watch your classmates, right?" Asked a third voice, this one feminine, and more chirpy than the first.  
"No, stay on your game," sighed the first, as though she expected the instruction not to be heeded. "What do we say if someone asks who we are?"  
"Just say you're my plus ones," dismissed the male. "Anyway, we can't hide out in this room forever."

Maka started, and hurried to the door at the end of the hall, thanking the stars that the hall was carpeted, or else the clunky heels would have betrayed her position immediately. Having no time to disappear outside without drawing attention, Maka got a better idea; she opened the door, left it for a second, then closed it loudly, beginning to walk calmly back the way she had come just as three people filed out of the room she had been eavesdropping on.

"Whoa!" Maka giggled, as the hallway became crowded. "Have you guys seen Kim?"  
"Who?" Asked a tall girl with long hair.  
Maka raised her eyebrows. "Kim? Uh, she's...." Maka held out her hand and did her worst attempt at estimating Kim's height, going for a (hopefully convincing) tipsy impression. "Pink hair?"  
"Oh, I want to go pink," hummed the shorter girl, whose hair was cropped above her shoulders.  
"Do not," muttered the taller girl.  
And the boy in the middle, Maka definitely knew. She never would have picked him for a witch, but things happen like that sometimes. "Haven't seen her, sorry," said Kid dismissively. "Ladies, why don't we try and find my friend Brian?" He asked, a little too pointedly. Maka didn't know any Brian. He was likely using a made up person to get away from the conversation.  
"Well," Maka shrugged, "Thanks anyway!" 

The three of them passed her, the smaller one whispering an excited "hi!" as she went, and they all disappeared out the door Maka had pretended to come through. She still wanted to check outside, except now she would have to go the opposite way. Her first priority would be warning Soul; He, Tsubaki and Crona would have to lay low if there were people about looking for anyone out of place. She re-entered the fray, which was significantly more crowded than it had been even five minutes ago. The music had been turned up, and Maka couldn't see anyone she was looking for. 

She went back upstate to find Blair mixing herself something in a metal tumbler, humming away to herself. Maka leaned over and asked, "If you see BlackStar, Tsubaki, Soul or Crona, can you tell them to come find me? It's urgent."  
Blair started with a laugh, nearly dropping the tumbler. "Oh, kitten, you scared me! Here," she pulled another plastic cup from a stack and poured half the contents of the tumbler into one, holding it out to Maka. "Try this."  
"What's in it?" Maka asked, extremely sceptical. "Did you hear what I said?"  
"Tell them to find you, it's urgent. Got it. Lighten up Maka, it's a party! It'll help you give your speech," she promised.

Certain the drink contained more alcohol content than Maka had ever consumed in her life, she resolved to dispose of the contents in a bush somewhere outside, but she nodded and smiled to Blair anyway. "Don't forget! It's important!" She reminded the purple-haired woman, but she was already turning away to wipe up a spill that was just made on the other end of the bench by an over-gesturing storyteller. Maka made one quick lap of the upstairs to ensure that she hadn't missed anyone there, only to find Crona in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bath and playing with a decorative shell.

"What are you doing?" Maka asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"It's real loud out there," they sighed. "I can't handle it." Then, suddenly, "Maka, can I ask you something?"  
"S-sure."  
"How do you know if someone is your friend?"  
Maka raised both eyebrows this time. She had not been expecting that. "Um... Well friends..." She cleared her throat, stopping to think for a moment. "They do things to help you without being asked. If you're sad they will help you feel better. They might show you new things you would like, or make jokes they know you will get. They won't take advantage of you, and they shouldn't lie to you. Why?"  
"Oh. J-just wondering."  
"Okay," she smiled. "And I agree, it is loud down there. If you want to go back to my house and be away from people, that's fine. I'll give you my key."  
"That's okay, I'll just hang around in here. You only have to meet one person at a time in a bathroom," they sighed.  
Instead of pointing out the flaws in that logic, Maka decided to talk about more pressing matters. "I actually came here to warn you, there are three people looking for demons here. Two girls, and a boy with dark hair and clothes. I think they might be with the witches. Keep Ragnarok under wraps, okay? If he behaves I'll give him candy."  
"I'll see what I can do," Crona replied, though they sounded unsure. "Oh, there was a girl with Soul downstairs a few minutes ago."  
Maka tensed. Had they found him out? Talons of dread dragged down her spine, and she almost crushed the still-full cup Blair had given her. "I'd best go and find him," she declared. "Stay safe. If you have any doubts, Blair is in the kitchen, okay?"

Maka marched out and almost ran down the stairs, but she had to refrain. Rushing would only arouse suspicion. As she marched with purpose, practically shoving people out of the way, her path was suddenly cut off by BlackStar, who was looking impatient. 

"If you don't get the show started soon, people are going to be too preoccupied to listen," he warned, looking annoyed.  
"It's not happening," Maka dismissed distractedly, craning her neck to look for the shock of white hair.  
"What do you mean it's not happening?" BlackStar scoffed in disbelief.  
"I'll explain later, just find Tsubaki and make sure she doesn't talk to anyone, you understand?" Maka demanded firmly. She leaned forward to whisper, "Do not tell anyone about the bond tonight! I'm serious!"  
"What the hell, Maka?" BlackStar was calling after her, but she marched on, preoccupied. Hopefully he would heed her warning, but right now she had a more immediate threat to deal with.

She couldn't see Soul inside anywhere, and was really starting to worry until she finally spotted him outside, sitting at the far end of the pool and talking to some people in it. One closest appeared to be a blonde girl. Whether it was the blonde she saw with Kid, it was hard to tell, since her hair was wet and her back was turned. Maka threw the sliding door open, her eyes scanning for Kid and the smaller girl. When her gaze fell back on Soul... He wasn't there anymore. The water heaved from the weight of something falling in, and Maka was about to shout when he surfaced, gasping. He said something to the girl, she laughed and put her hands on his shoulders, turning in profile. Not Kid's friend. Just a classmate. 

Maka tried not to be upset. The relief that he wasn't being attacked gave way to annoyance. Really, it was absolutely none of her business if Soul wanted to swim with humans and let them put their arms around his shoulders and hang off him while laughing in the water. It wasn't her concern. He knew how to work the washing machine, he could wash his own clothes if they got wet. Demons and men were alike enough that she should have expected this sort of behaviour, given her dear daddy's example. Was that even fair? He was a demon who had been magically bonded to her, by accident. Not her boyfriend. She turned and quickly stepped back inside, pulling the glass door shut behind her. Without really thinking about it, she took three gulps of the drink before actually tasting it and sputtering. 

"God, Blair," Maka muttered. At least the bitterness of the drink was a nice distraction, if only for a moment. She went to set it down on the nearest surface, then withdrew when she realised it was a piano. Oh, great. She kept the cup and made her way back towards the stairs. Hiding in the bathroom was sounding like an incresingly better idea with almost every interaction she was having tonight. With nowhere to put the drink, she began to down it instead, growing very tired of having to hold it. She had enough in her hands metaphorically, physically she could at least lose the cup in the recycling.

"Hey, wait!" She heard, though she had a feeling she had been called a few times prior and had simply been too distracted to hear. As she stopped at the bottom of the stairs by a forlorn looking Ox (who was gazing longingly at a particular girl dancing nearby,) she turned to see Soul, absolutely dripping wet with a hand on her arm.

"What?" Maka asked, a little more harshly than she intended to.  
"You're upset," he blurted, seemingly taken aback by her prickliness.  
Maka bit back a sarcastic response and turned to proceed up the stairs. "The party isn't going how I thought it would. Everything is under control," she called over her shoulder. But he was following.  
"Well what's up? Maybe I can help," he offered, while Maka wove her way past the people on the stairs until she was at the upper landing. When she got there only to find he was still behind her asking questions, she whirled, blocking the stairs with her arms on each railing. Soul stopped short, and she was pleased that the difference in floor height brought them level.  
"I have everything under control. You can go back to your midnight dip, don't let me distract you," she smiled a little too tightly, and she regretted her passive aggression as soon as it left her mouth.  
"Is that why you're mad?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"I'm not mad."  
"You can't exactly lie about it," he reminded her flatly.  
Maka scowled. "So you keep reminding me." 

She stood straight again and turned on her heel, marching for the kitchen. Soul followed. The kitchen was crowded enough that he had to really push to keep up with her. "So what do you want me to do? Ignore it?"  
"Please."  
"It's kinda hard to."  
"It's also kinda polite to!" Maka snapped, opening cupboards as she went. "They're my feelings and if I wanted you to weigh in, I'd share them."  
"In case you missed the memo, Maka, you lost that luxury a while ago. I'm not having a good time if you're not, so will you just tell me why you're mad?" 

After Maka found the drawer she was looking for, she straightened and looked Soul in the eye. It was pointless to be mad at him; he had done nothing wrong. "I have nothing to be mad about. There's nothing to tell." She picked up a kitchen towel from the drawer in a big handful, and tossed the towel at his chest, so he would be forced to catch it. 

When he didn't follow her out of the kitchen, Maka assumed she was done with him. She leaned against the wall in the hallway a bit, out of the full light, to gather her thoughts. She was taking her feelings out on Soul, even though it wasn't anyone's fault but her own. Almost in accusation, Maka threw a glare at the cup Blair had given her. It was more than half empty, but she could hardly blame the beverage. The root of the problem was that she was a coward in love with a demon, and she would rather get angry and walk away than confess it.

Maka blinked in surprise at the white wall across from her, as if it were the one saying outrageous things. She had never admitted it fully before, even to herself. It was dangerous, more so now than ever, and yet she couldn't take it back. She tried remembering what he looked like, all tall and gaunt and gored, fresh from hell, but it didn't work. All she remembered was waking up some mornings to find him staring out the window in his own world, and she had happily gone back to sleep. Or how truly, incredibly angry he was when she had been attacked. Or just hours ago, where she had felt an odd emotion and he had disappeared before she could ask about it. 

This was ridiculous, and she wasn't going to wallow in it any longer; she was going to tell him. She pushed off the wall, finished the drink in one gulp, and turned to march to the kitchen, only to run straight into Soul. In her daydreaming, she hadn't heard him approach at all. She dropped her empty cup in surprise. 

"I'm sorry," Maka blurted. "Not just for running into you. For being upset. It's nothing you did, it's... Something else. The truth is, I think I--" she was cut off as Soul took her face in his hands, the unusual gesture catching her entirely off guard. At first, she thought she had something on her face. He was leaning closer, and she realised way later than she should have that something was happening here. It was awkward, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. They were so, so red, framed by eyelashes that were still clumped together with water. This was insane. He wasn't human, and she didn't even care. 

Maka couldn't help the grin. It was odd to be so close to someone else's face, and the nervousness was making her giddy. Soul grinned too, sucking in a deep breath before closing the distance between them, as if he were diving into water. Their lips collided a little more awkwardly than Maka would have liked, and his face was still almost soaking. Maka was fine with this. She wasn't planning on kissing him only once, after all. In fact, when they pulled apart and Soul snorted with quiet disbelief, she was fully prepared to make for a second attempt when a shout of alarm from the stairs made them both jump apart, like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

At first, Maka thought someone had seen her kissing a demon. Given that most people didn't know Soul was a demon, this was quickly ruled out once her logical brain caught up to her reactionary one. "What the fuck was that?" Soul asked, holding out an arm for her to wait as he looked around the corner. She followed anyway, only to see people cramming down the stairs to see something.

Soul looked over his shoulder at her with a frown. "This can't be good."  
Maka nodded and stepped around his arm to get to the stairs. It was a mission and a half to get far enough to see what was happening, but when she did, her stomach lurched. Downstairs, in the middle of the room, Ox was lying on the floor, side by side with an ethereal person she was sure wasn't human. Above him stood BlackStar, who was beckoning shocked people forward. 

"Oh--" Maka began.  
"Shit," Cut in Soul. 

Maka reached back and took his hand in a vice grip, and for what felt like the millionth time tonight, began forcing her way through the crowd, dragging Soul after her. Nothing good, she was certain, could come of this.


	20. Pursuit

Soul was in a state. Everything was happening at once and nothing was okay. 

The people they passed were looking tense, excited, confused, or downright scandalized. Maka was on a war path, and all Soul could do was follow her through the crowd until they finally came upon BlackStar, who was holding his phone up and coaxing one of Maka's classmates with whatever was on the screen. The girl was scribbling on a notepad, looking dubious, and he recognised her as a girl who had spoken to them in the library once. The bald kid who gave them a lift was unconscious on the floor. Maka let go of Soul's hand and dropped to the floor beside Ox, checking to make sure he was breathing before turning her furious glare on BlackStar.

"Kim, stop! BlackStar, what the hell are you doing!?" Maka shouted, standing again to square against their friend. Tsubaki appeared at the edge of the crowd, staring in horror at the scene before her. Crona was nowhere to be seen.  
"What you wanted," BlackStar rolled his eyes. "You should be thanking your God for doing what you couldn't."  
"I did not want this," Maka growled, pointing at the unconscious pair on the floor. Whatever hellish form the demon had was already pretty much gone, and now he just looked like a sleeping human... to anyone who didn't know better. Unfortunately this entire party now knew better. 

"I wanted to tell them the truth, not put them in danger! You just made Ox bond with a demon in a room full of confused and alarmed exorcists, BlackStar! It's amazing they haven't been killed, or banished!"  
BlackStar held up his phone, on which was a picture of the summoning tags from the book Soul had stolen. "This is the truth. It's not my fault you were too afraid to deliver the news."  
"That's not why I told you to call it off, you idiot!" Maka groaned. "I wasn't afraid, I--"  
"My bad. You weren't afraid. Just preoccupied," BlackStar scoffed. "Might wanna tell Soul to wipe his mouth."

Soul raised his eyebrows, and he felt Maka tense. He wiped his mouth with his thumb, and it came away with a pinkish smear. Whoops. 

"You are reckless and immature," Maka accused, refusing to take the bait. "I was trying to warn you that the witches might have people here, but you had to be in the spotlight, just like always!"  
"Well that's your fault for being too busy to communicate things properly!" BlackStar spat back.  
"Both of you stop!" Tsubaki stamped her foot.  
They were all interrupted by a flash of light, and a fourth demon entered the room. "Kim!" Maka cried in disbelief. "Weren't you listening to anything I just said!?"

Unlike Soul and Tsubaki, this demon was smaller than a human when she appeared. Her entire body seemed to be made of blazing fire, and she wore clothes of iron. She could have been no taller than a six year old. Warm orange eyes peered up at Kim.

"I just have to touch her, right?" Kim asked, staring transfixed at the warm light coming from the demon. She held her hand out, and the demon responded in kind, until their palms met. Both dropped, and the demon's fire ebbed and faded like dying coals.  
"Shit," Maka groaned. It was clear that the cat was out of the bag here. The best she could do was try to make the best of what was happening.

"It's true," Maka raised her voice, addressing the people around them. "Exorcists used to have a very different relationship with demons, but we were poisoned against it thousands of years ago. I know a lot of you probably want to freak out and exorcise these guys right now, but you can't. If you do, you'll send me, BlackStar, Kim and Ox to hell with our demons. I've been trying to find a way to break the bond for weeks and I still don't have an answer." She wrung her hands together. The music had been turned down before, but someone had now turned it off entirely. "It might seem outrageous, but you would be very surprised to find just how many of you have demon blood. Truth is, if they found out we had bonded demons, they would try to kill us, because with our demons, we pose a threat."

"Who's 'they'?" Asked an underclassman.  
"Witches," Maka replied. As expected, her response was met with varying degrees of disbelief and outright laughter. "They run our school and our entire society, and they can't stay at the top unless they continue to keep us in the dark about our true potential. They're leading us blind to our own slaughter, and they're trying to kill anyone who figures out the truth before they get rid of us all for good."  
"Why haven't they killed you yet, then?" Asked someone else.  
"They tried, twice," Maka admitted. "Once at the Night Hunt, when I saw Councilwoman Medusa lurking around school grounds. Then again, within the last week." 

BlackStar cut in by raising his hand, as if asking a question in class. "Aren't you forgetting the fuckoff massive demon summoning contraption they have locked in a basement somewhere? The one they're going to use to start the apocalypse?"  
Maka sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I was easing into that, BlackStar," she groaned, but it was barely audible above the rising sounds of alarmed chatter.  
"But that's why we're telling everyone! So you can help to stop it!" Tsubaki cut in. 

Soul got a bad feeling. He wasn't sure why, but with every passing second, he was feeling more and more like they were in jeopardy. Quietly, while their classmates were quizzing Tsubaki, Soul put a hand on Maka's arm to get her attention. "Maka. We have to get these two idiots and their demons out of here," he told her, gesturing to Ox and Kim.  
"What about everyone else? We have to try and explain."  
"At this point, you might as well just hand out summoning 101 fliers for all the subtlety we have maintained," he shrugged. "I told you this was going to be a garbage fire."  
"Nobody likes a sore winner," Maka complained, but she turned and crouched by Ox to tap his cheeks, attempting to coax him awake.  
"Don't think that's gonna work. If there really are witches here, we have to get these people out of here and to some place they won't find us," he told her, his hand on her shoulder.  
"I don't even know where that might be," she sighed. "Plus, there is the hurdle of transporting four people. I have no idea how we are going to move them from the property."  
"I might have a way," BlackStar cut in. He looked reluctantly apologetic, at least. "But we're going to have to search this guy's pockets," he added, tapping Ox with his toe.

Maka nodded. "His van. Good thinking. But we still need a safe place. I think our house is too risky."  
"Going to a known location is tactical suicide," Soul agreed.  
"I'm going to get Crona and Blair," Maka announced. "BlackStar, I think it's time you called it a night with this party. Tsubaki and Soul, you guys are stronger than us. You need to get these four upstairs safely so we can get them into the car."  
"Yes ma'am," BlackStar sighed. 

"Wait, you can't just leave like that!" A blonde underclassman whined. "Just dump that bombshell on us and bolt? What the hell?"  
"I wasn't joking. We are all in danger. And when the time comes," Maka raised her voice, "we have to rely on each other. I'll find a way to get these summoning methods to anyone who wants them. We're going to be free again!"

Most people were busy murmuring about the whole ordeal to really react to her rallying speech, but she did get an enthusiastic whoop from an unsteady young gentleman in the back. Good enough. 

Maka clenched her fists and began to march towards the staircase again. Soul thought about saying something to her or going after her. He could pull her into a corner so he could say all the things he wanted to say before the commotion had broken their moment. But that determination she was using to power through the crowd and gather her people was exactly why she made him weak-kneed, and he didn't think he could interrupt it. Soul wiped his mouth again, feeling self-conscious, as if everyone in the room could hear his thoughts. He kept waiting for the fact that he was a demon and she was human to hit and ruin everything, but he was starting to realise that maybe he just didn't give a fuck. Her smile transcended dimensions.

Alas, as much as he wanted to pick up where they had left off, Soul realized they were on something of a time constraint now. Even if witches weren't at their door, it was only a matter of time before word got back to them. Did they have moles in the student body? It didn't seem like it could be true, but anything was possible.

Soul took Ox's arm and heaved him over his shoulder. He was heavier than Soul expected. His demon had an odd pair of spectacles on, Soul noted. It might have been possible to lift them both at once, but the stairs were crowded; trying to navigate two deadweight bodies up there at once would be a nightmare. So began the awkward ascent, Tsubaki not far behind and carrying Ox's demon.

"Sorry about him," Tsubaki called suddenly. She sounded guilty.  
"Why are you sorry?" He asked, grunting as he forced his way past onlookers, who seemed to be gawking at him when they thought he wasn't looking.  
"I should have gotten there sooner and stopped him," Tsubaki replied. "Now look what we've done!"  
"If it makes you feel any better, maybe it had to happen. Nobody would have believed us if they didn't see it for themselves," Soul reminded her. "Plus, you can't blame yourself. None of us were around. Maka and I didn't get there until Ox was already out cold."

They reached the landing, pausing for a break as people shuffled around them. A few seemed to be gathering their belongings and friends. Hopefully they would clear out.

"So, is that actually Maka's lipstick?"  
Surprising himself, Soul flushed at the question. He wiped his mouth again, and decided to dodge the question entirely. "BlackStar's dad is going to kill him when he sees this mess. I feel kinda bad that we're bolting."  
"Well, when he finds out that we're trying to prevent an apocalypse," Tsubaki grunted, hoisting the unconscious body over her shoulders into a better position, "I'm sure he will understand!"

By the time the two of them had arrived at the street and strapped the sleepers into Ox's minivan, BlackStar had already arrived upstairs with Kim's demon. Tsubaki ran back downstairs to get Kim while BlackStar hauled himself into the driver's seat.

"Do you know how to drive this thing?" Soul asked, cocking an eyebrow as BlackStar stared in horror at the stick shift.  
"Of course I do. What kind of God can't drive a stupid van?" He snapped. Then, in the silence as Soul struggled with the seatbelt, BlackStar said "I shouldn't have yelled at you guys."  
"S'cool," Soul shrugged. "At least nobody can say tonight wasn't interesting." He watched as BlackStar turned the key, coaxing the engine to life. The rickety old thing was loud as it sputtered into ignition, and BlackStar turned to grin at Soul.  
"What can I say, I throw a good rager-- oh fuck!"

Soul tensed and looked up to see what BlackStar was reacting to, only to see he was looking over Soul's shoulder. Something cold and harsh pressed against the back of Soul's skull, and he clenched his fists. 

"The fuck do you want?" Soul asked, gritting his teeth.  
"No sudden moves," instructed an oddly soft voice. A young male. "I'm just here to talk."  
"Is that your conversation gun, then?" A girl laughed, and a third voice hushed her.  
"I'll lower it if you-- OW!"

A dull clatter sounded as something hit the ground. The gun disappeared from behind Soul's head, and he whirled in time to see Maka, having approached apparently under the cover of the van's engine. Her shoe lay by the feet of the young man that had been behind Soul. Either side of him, two blondes stared in shock as Maka hobbled on one heel. In his hands were two identical pistols.

"Maka, what the hell are you doing!?" Soul yelled at her.  
"I don't know!" Maka yelled back, struggling with the strap on her other shoe. "He had a gun!"  
"I'm putting the guns away, so long as we all agree not to set our demons on a rampage, deal?" Without waiting for an answer, he tossed each gun into the air either side of him with an easy movement. Midair, the weapons disappeared into nothingness. Soul frowned, because that was as sure a sign as any that his man either was, or had, a demon.

Maka narrowed her eyes as he bent down to pick up her shoe off the ground. The heel of the shoe dangled, clinging to life by a thin strip of glue. "I know a good cobbler, should you need one," the guy told her, before tossing the shoe gently towards her.  
Maka caught it midair. "What do you want, Kid?"  
Ah, Kid. The skateboard guy from the night hunt. From memory he had caught a fox, but didn't show up to the tour.  
"I want to save your lives," he told her. "Do you have any idea what kind of situation you have put yourselves in? You have completely compromised your position to the witches and dragged your classmates into the mess. At best, our entire society will brand you a radical terrorist to try and squash any ideas you gave your classmates down there." His scolding set Soul aback.

Maka hesitated, one leg bent from her wonky one-shoed stance. "I didn't know what else to do."  
"Well, it's too late now. We have a matter of weeks at most before hell on Earth is literally unleashed upon you all, and there is a lot to fill you in on," Kid told her. "I am sure you know that your homes are no longer safe locations?"  
"We figured as much," Soul responded hesitantly.  
"Yes, well, luckily there is a place. It's not glamorous, but nobody will think to look for you in such a dump," Kid explained.  
"Hang on," Maka held up her hand. "How do we know we can trust you? I overheard you talking. You knew there were demons at this party before BlackStar decided to spill centuries of secrets to the entire cohort," she accused.  
"You could be with the witches for all we know!" BlackStar chimed in.  
"I promise you, none of us three are witches by any stretch. We are, however, associated with a good friend of a mister... Spirit Albarn, was it?" Kid threw a pointed look at Maka, who blinked a few times in surprise.

"His contact! Yes! Can we see him?" Maka clenched her fists and threw aside caution, throwing the backpack she was holding, and her broken shoe, into the van, narrowly missing Ox's head.  
"Not until tomorrow evening, I'm afraid. He's out of town on an exorcism, and asked me to investigate in his absence. It turns out that there are more demons than we were anticipating, which complicates things."

Tsubaki and Blair approached with Crona hesitantly following. Tsubaki had Kim's demon in her arms, and she eyed Kid and his friends suspiciously as she climbed in to strap the demon into the seat in the back. Blair, oddly, exchanged a long look with narrowed eyes at Kid, before turning away to busy herself with her hair in the van window.

"They're going to help us," Maka explained quietly. Then, to Kid, "Where are we going?"  
"There is a car yard on the other side of town from the school. It's near our contact's house. We will spend the night in hiding and rendezvous with your father's friend in the afternoon."  
"Who is he?" Maka asked, throwing a curious glance at Blair.  
"You'll see soon enough. Now hurry and get in, because it's entirely possible that Arachne already has her people on their way."

There was a silence in which nobody moved for a few seconds. "Who's Arachne?" Tsubaki finally asked, still hunched in the van.  
The taller young lady by Kid sighed. "They know even less than we thought."  
"It's fine. We can fill you in once we've made it through the night unassailed by witches, deal?"  
Maka nodded. "Deal. Everyone in!"

With a lot of difficulty, eight people crammed into the van with the four sleeping people already in it. The taller girl, introduced to them as Liz, took the driver's seat. Her sister Patti and Crona both crammed into the front passenger seat, where the young girl chatted Crona's ear off before the engine even sputtered to life. Tsubaki and BlackStar sat behind the front seats, at the feet of the two middle chairs where Ox and his demon sat. In the tiny aisle between them, Kid folded himself up on the floor, leaving the wet seat beside Kim, or the floor. Soul and Maka took the floor. It wasn't until she was seated that Maka realised Blair hadn't boarded.

"Hey! Blair!" She called, struggling to stand in the cramped space. The purple-haired woman stuck her head in.  
"I'm good, kitten. Some of us have work in the morning," she winked.  
"What? You're involved, you can't just go home! What if they come after you?" Maka protested.  
"Oh, I have plenty of friends who would kill to let me crash with them," Blair shrugged. "Don't worry about me. This cat can take care of herself." Maka could have sworn that she saw Kid roll his eyes, but when she glanced down, he seemed fixated on the empty seat behind Maka.  
"Call me if you need us, Blair. I mean it," Maka demanded. She seemed stressed, but Blair couldn't have been more relaxed if she tried.  
"Right back at you," she winked, and blew a kiss before disappearing, pulling the door shut with a thud, sealing them in.

Liz pressed the gas and the van heaved itself forward. "Hang on in there," she called over her shoulder. "Not that we will be doing excessive speeds with all this weight in the back."  
"I'm sorry," snapped Kid suddenly, as Maka settled back onto the floor. "Could you not have taken that seat?" He pointed to the wet seat Maka had avoided on the ride earlier in the evening. "It's awfully.... Unbalanced in here."  
"Seat's wet," Soul answered with a shrug.

This seemed to catch Kid's attention, as if he had forgotten Soul existed, and he turned to Soul with a hand on his chin, as if in thought. "How long have you been bonded to this demon?"  
"He has a name, why don't you ask him?" Maka reprimanded quietly, hands around her knees. Soul felt her annoyance on his behalf, and it made the cramped space seem even more crowded.  
"Hm, yes, how rude of me," Kid said absently. "It's just that generally, bonding with a demon can be risky without guidance or supervision. For both of you. It can affect your health. Many demons do not stay long, due to the effects of mortal shedding."  
"What's mortal shedding?" Maka asked, looking instantly concerned. "He's not dying, is he?" She asked.  
Kid snorted. "No, of course not. He may just pick up mortal habits due to his extended stay in this dimension. It can be uncomfortable for many. Taxing on the body, and whatnot."  
"Like... Gaining an appetite," Maka said slowly, glancing at Soul. It seemed obvious, he didn't know how he hadn't drawn the connection before.  
"Yes, exactly like that, " Kid replied. "Appetite, weariness, and all those little human needs and desires that don't tend to bother demons on the flipside. It can just hit some demons like freight train. How wet is the seat, exactly? I am sure there is a towel somewhere, perhaps..." He struggled to look around from his position wedged on the floor.

"Well he doesn't look sleepy, so that's a good sign," Maka observed. Soul was very aware every time she glanced at him. Their moment had been fine when he didn't feel scrutinized by a busload of people. Even though everyone else was more or less preoccupied, he still felt like everyone was staring, and if he so much as glanced at Maka they would guess. 

"Kid," called Liz from the front, her knuckles whitening on the wheel. "This car behind us just followed us for the last five turns."  
"We have a tail?" Kid asked, sitting up.  
"I don't know, maybe?" She replied. "I don't exactly want to stop and ask."  
"If we do, there is no way this tugboat of a vehicle is going to be able to outrun a car. Especially with half the neighbourhood on board," Kid observed, tapping his chin.

He was right. "Move them all to the back, wet seat or no," commanded Maka, pointing to Ox and his demon in the front. "If they try to open the doors, we need them to be defensible." Soul scrambled to unbuckle their seatbelts and help BlackStar awkwardly shuffle the sleeping bodies into the back. The poor demon had to take the spot on the floor where Maka and Soul had been sitting. Kid moved into the free seat and turned to look out the back window, watching a set of headlights slowly approach. Soul sat as Maka stood hunched in the cabin, messing with her foot.

"The hell are you doing?" BlackStar asked her.  
"I'm trying to-- ack!" Tsubaki barely managed to catch Maka before she toppled, pushing her back upright. "Thank you. I'm trying to get my shoe off."  
"Just sit down and do it," BlackStar suggested.  
"No room."  
"Sit on Soul or something then, I dunno," he rolled his eyes. Maka visibly tensed.  
"That's unsafe. There's no seatbelt," she mumbled.  
"You're standing in the middle of a moving van," Kid raised an eyebrow.  
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Soul groaned, and took Maka's foot. She shrieked and nearly lost her balance, having to plant her foot on the arm rest of his seat to avoid toppling over. Soul dug his nails under the suede strap around her ankle, and got it undone in less than three seconds. He lifted her foot out and offered her shoe to her with one hand, careful to look bored. "There. Problem solved."

"Well, we have bigger problems," Kid observed. Maka was clenching her shoe in her fist, and blushed so hard that Soul was glad it was too dark in the van to really see, because it felt like her blush was making him blush by sheer emotional transfer. He ignored it and followed Kid's gaze to the headlights behind the van, following them around another corner and appearing much closer. "That was the fourth left turn in a row that they have followed us through."

As if they heard this realisation, the driver of the car sped up real close behind the van. 

"We need to slow them down," Tsubaki noted, now on her knees and craning her neck to see.  
"Kid!" Patti called, and tossed something into the back. It landed at Maka's feet and she shouted in alarm.  
"Do not throw guns!!!" She scolded.  
"Excuse me, do not yell at my sister," Liz snapped as she passed her own gun back to Kid. Then, she turned to her sister. "Patti, don't throw firearms."  
Maka grumbled and turned away, focussing her attention on the roof. Above them was a hatch, a sunroof of some kind. Maka fumbled around with it, trying to figure out how to open it. "Where are the controls?"

BlackStar got up and nudged Maka out of the way. With strength that was genuinely impressive for a human, he slammed his elbow into it. A horrible crack had the panel gaping open a few inches, and another good hit gave them enough room to pry it the rest of the way until the wind caught it, whipping it backwards. The vehicle pursuing them had to swerve to avoid hitting it. 

"Right," Maka declared, and stood until her head was in the wind. She bent under the force, and Soul startled.  
"Maka what the fuck, get back in here!" Soul shouted over the sound of the wind, but Maka was already drawing her shoe over her head and hurling it at the car behind them. Soul was going to roll his eyes, until by some freak stroke of luck, the heel hit the windshield at the perfect angle to web the windshield with cracks. Maka whooped and hopped in place before ducking back down to grin at Soul.

"Did you see?" She asked, laughing as Kid took her place out of the sun roof, brandishing his pistols in a very unusual upside-down posture.  
"You're pretty," he blurted, like a complete and total dork. Time stood still and real, actual bile rose in his throat. What would possibly possess him to say something so shamefully unfiltered?  
He was just about ready to hurl himself out the window when she shouted "What? I didn't hear you!" She was trying to push her hopelessly windswept hair out of her eyes.  
"I said your aim isn't shitty," he yelled back, sighing with relief as she accepted this and began to watch through the back window as Kid fired shots at the vehicle behind them, forcing them to back off.

As Soul turned toward the front to take a breath and recover from his terrifying brush with sincerity, he spotted BlackStar pulling an entirely disappointed expression and slowly shaking his head. Not cool.

"We need to lose them," Kid declared. "Fast."  
"They're pulling up beside us," reported Tsubaki, as the car passed the left side of the van and out of view of the rear window.  
"They're going to swerve and hit us!" Crona wailed, eyes wide as they watched out the passenger window.

The horrible screech of metal on metal put their teeth on edge, and the panels on the side of the van crunched in audibly. Soul had to catch both Maka and Kid, as the force of the car ramming into the side of the van tossed them both into his lap. Shattering the air of dignity he had upheld until now, Kid was flailing to regain his footing awkwardly. While the weight wasn't anything Soul couldn't handle, it was straining Maka, who pushed Kid off of her and rubbed the back of her head where it had hit the wall of the van.

"You okay?" Soul asked, helping her to sit up.  
"I'd be better if that car would back off," she growled, and her widening eyes were all the warning Soul got before Kid ripped the side door of the van open, brandishing his pistols with a foul look on his face. The rush of air buffeted them, and Soul gripped her tighter as Liz swerved violently to save Kid being snatched by a man hanging out the window of the car beside them. Maka uncurled, her fists clenched. "Give me your scythe," she told him, setting a foot on the ground.

"Whatever you're thinking, unthink it," Soul demanded. "Do not go near that door."  
"Why not!?"  
"You're squishy."  
"I'm sick of sitting around letting everyone else pull my dead weight," Maka squirmed to get out of his lap, and he let her.

Tsubaki clicked her tongue. "He's right, Maka. Kid, look out," she stood from her seat on the floor and took the handle on the inside of the door for balance. In her hand appeared the chain weapon she had used to help defeat Giriko. She swung it a few times, testing its weight. "Liz, get ready to punch it."  
"This van doesn't do 'punch'," Liz called nervously over her shoulder. 

Tsubaki ignored this and tossed her chain in the space between the two vehicles. The hooked blade at the end hit the door and rattled under the car, taking lengths of chain with it. The man hanging out of the car howled with laughter... Until the chain finished wrapping itself around the shaft mechanisms behind the wheel and made a violent sound. The driver seemed unable to steer properly, and the car slowly drifted towards the van again.

"Gas!!!!" Tsubaki shouted, bracing herself as they all watched the car careen towards them. On the other side of them was a sidewalk, and then a solid concrete wall. If they were lucky enough to mount the pavement, the wall would surely do them in. In the front, Liz yelled and shifted gear, and the van revved hard. Slowly they began to creep in front of the car while the engine begged for mercy. One passenger in the car bailed out the door, surely realising that their journey was not destined for good places. 

It was so close that Soul was sure they would collide, but the van pulled clear of the car by inches. They watched behind them as the car hit the curb and ground into the wall, shaving off paint and panels as the remaining occupants abandoned ship.

"Do we go back for them?" Maka asked, heaving a sigh of relief.  
"The colder our trail when their backup arrives, the better," Kid responded.  
"Where are you taking us, anyway?" BlackStar asked, trying his best to pretend he hadn't been worried for a few moments there.  
"Don't ruin the surprise," Patti teased, apparently unfazed by their altercation.  
"It's hardly a surprise," Liz muttered. "More like a dump."

"Well, whatever gets us through the night," Maka sighed, and slid down against the good wall, cramped in between Soul's legs and BlackStar. She looked completely exhausted, and her hands shook. Soul searched his brain for something to say, but he drew up blanks. What could he say? Nothing that would make her feel better. A nagging voice told him that things were already getting awkward between them, now that they had been pushed from a dim hallway and back into reality. Did she only let him kiss her because he had driven her to stress chug a cup of mystery drink? His hand, which had reached out to touch her shoulder, retreated back to his side with its tail between its legs.

She was an exorcist. How could she love a demon? A monster from another dimension, whom she had been raised to despise. He couldn't help but feel that all of this was happening because of him. People were getting hurt because Maka was spiritually glued to him, and there was nothing he could do to fix it. She would wake up in the morning and regret what happened. Maybe she did already. But at least, just for a few hours, he had been able to live in that fantasy.

"Next on the right, Liz," Kid instructed calmly, drawing Soul from his internal lament.  
"Are we there?" Asked Crona sleepily, craning to look behind the headrest.  
"Pretty much. I hope you all brought blankets, because this will be a long night." Liz's words did nothing to quell Soul's unease.


	21. In A Rusting Metropolis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you guys know, your comments (and wild speculation :p) always make me smile! Thanks for supporting me <3

"It's like a city," Tsubaki commented, as they all spilled out of the van and into a metropolis of wrecked cars, lit only by the moonlight and the light from Maka's phone. 

"We will need to wait out the night," declared Kid, seeming relieved to be out in the fresh air. Beside him, Crona and Patti practically spilled out of the front seat.  
"Where, exactly?" Asked Soul, stretching his arms above his head. He looked exhausted, and Maka didn't blame him. Without a word, he passed her the backpack she had left in the van.   
"Thanks," she muttered, but she wasn't sure if he heard.  
"Moving the sleepers would be a lot of effort. It would be best if a few of you that are familiar to them camped out with the vehicle. They may wake up disoriented," Kid advised. 

Before Maka could volunteer, Tsubaki plopped down in the passenger seat just inside the door. "BlackStar and I can. I don't need to sleep, so I can keep an eye on everyone."  
"We can too," Maka volunteered quickly.  
"It's a bit cramped as is," BlackStar pointed out. "There's gotta be some more open cars to crash in, right?"

Maka chewed her lip and nodded absently. "Probably."  
"There is," Crona announced, already folded into the back of a sedan that was missing all of its wheels. "I'm comfortable here."  
"And I can keep an eye out from my perch!" Tsubaki grinned.   
"Both of you should do the same," Kid said to Maka, though she knew he was addressing her and Soul. "Don't stray too far. The three of us will meet you here in the morning."  
"Hang on a second," BlackStar cut in. "Where are you going?"  
"Home, to our comfortable beds," Liz laughed. "Some of us haven't painted targets on our backs just yet." BlackStar grumbled, but it wouldn't change anything. 

Kid and the girls disappeared into the darkness, and Tsubaki was doing her best to make their unconscious peers comfortable, so Maka took the initiative and scanned their surroundings with her phone torch, inspecting for vehicles that still had most of their windows intact. She took a step, and a sharp piece of broken plastic poked her bare foot. Her hiss was quiet, but Soul had felt it. 

"Maybe someone with shoes should relocate," Soul suggested quietly, but Maka shook her head. "They're already settled. Just give me a boost."  
"What?" He asked, face blank.  
Maka sighed. "You know, like a piggy-back?" Soul responded by looking confused and holding out his pinky finger. "That's pinky, not piggy," she smiled, trying to contain laughter. "Just turn around." Soul looked very suspicious, but did as she asked. "I'm going to jump onto your back and you have to hook your arms under my legs to hold me up, okay?"  
"Why didn't you just say 'carry me'? It would have saved--" he grunted as she jumped up, flinging her arms over his shoulders. His arms hooked under her knees and held her weight, though it took him a second to re-adjust his balance. "Saved time," he finished. 

Despite herself, Maka giggled and kicked at his legs gently with her heels. "Mush!"  
"What does that even mean?"  
"It means go, and I think you could have guessed that from context," she grumbled, fumbling with her phone to point the light ahead of them. "Let's go find a moldy old car to crash in, shall we?"

It was more difficult than it sounded, given that perfectly watertight vehicles weren't commonplace in wreckers' yards, but eventually a long white vehicle only just out of view from the van caught her eye. Soul followed her pointing finger, and they approached to find a limousine pushed up against a stack of truck wheels without any tires on them. Maka hopped down to inspect it. She tested the door, and it opened. It was one of the regular limos, not the stretch kind, which bummed Maka only minimally. The front was very, very crumpled, but the partition between the driver and passengers protected the back from the elements. Maka grinned and backed up to tell Tsubaki. "I'm over here, okay?" She called, waving, and Tsubaki gave her a thumbs up. 

"Whoa," Soul whistled, sticking his head in the door. "As far as car seats go, this is five star."  
"I know, right?" She chortled. "Do you think the champagne is still in there?"  
"You're not turning into an alcoholic, are you?" He snorted. Maka knew he meant it as a joke, but it just brought embarrassing flashbacks to chugging the drink at the party. What was she thinking? It wasn't a crime to just put the drink down, or give it to someone else. And Soul must have seen this train of unpleasant thought cross her mind, because he slid his hands into his pockets, visibly deflating. He tipped his head towards the limo. "Go get some sleep. Tsubaki and I are watching."

Maka didn't know what to say, so she climbed into the limo and shut the door after her. Her backpack, thankfully, was packed with a set of comfortable clothes, the need for which she hadn't fully anticipated when she had packed them earlier this afternoon. A pair of lounge shorts and a racer back tank would do as pajamas, though they offered little warmth. She supposed she could just be glad she didn't have to sleep in the party dress. 

As she folded the dress, she sighed at it. It wasn't every day she got to look properly nice. Most days she didn't have the time or the motivation between her studies to find an excuse to dress up. It occurred to her that she had no way of removing the makeup she wore, and she was likely going to look like a raccoon by sunrise. In addition, she no longer had shoes. Already she wanted to itch her eyes, but it would only smear them worse. 

She tried to get comfortable on the musty seat, but the more she attempted to sleep, the more restless she became. She should say goodnight, or apologize for the way she had acted at the party, or ask him if there were any blankets in this car yard because it was cold as hell. On that thought, she could ask him if hell had a temperature, since he'd know. But it would be weird to just open the door and ask questions now. Not even an hour ago he'd kissed her in a darkened hallway, and now she was looking for an appropriate excuse to talk to him. 

Besides, he was probably gone from outside her door by now. In his shoes, she'd have found a comfortable seat somewhere to wait out the night. But she wasn't in his shoes. She was being ridiculous and she knew it, and lying awake thinking about all the things she would never get up and say wouldn't do anyone any favors. So, she settled back against the seat and again, closed her eyes and willed sleep to come.

It felt like at least an hour, but perhaps it was only minutes before she gave up. The shadows in the dimly lit limo seemed to loom over her, and she had never felt more alone. Her brain wouldn't let her sleep. It was like she was camping alone and there were wolves somewhere out to get her, and her brain just wouldn't slip out of overdrive. Eventually she caught herself remembering the mornings she would open her eyes and Soul was on her computer or looking out the window, and she'd drift off again because sleep couldn't possibly be a bad idea when he was around to look after her. 

It used to scare her when she thought about how he had existed in another dimension. Soul had been this inaccessible otherworldly being, one she had been reluctant to trust. Incomprehensible. Another class, another species, one that was nothing more to her than a threar. It was unclear when exactly that had changed, but now she struggled to think of him as anything other than a person.

A person who was outside somewhere, whom she had kissed earlier that night. A person she was dangerously close to losing if she let it get awkward. It was awkward, but she didn't want to let that get in the way. She wanted to embrace it, and even if Soul didn't feel the same way, at least she wouldn't have regrets. She moved toward the door to fling it open, and immediately was jolted by surprise. Not her own, but Soul's, because he had been leaning against the wheel arch right beside the door when it had opened suddenly. 

He looked down at her, crouched in the doorway with her own look of surprise, and she realised she hadn't rehearsed what she was going to say. Her mouth opened and just hung there uselessly. "Before you ask, I don't have a glass of water," he said cooly, after a long pause.   
"No, I don't... I just wanted to say... What I mean...." Maka clenched her fists and took a deep breath, her eyes clenched shut as she prepared to take the biggest metaphorical leap of her life. But she didn't get the chance. 

"When I woke up that very first day with a bond mark and fuzzy memory, I thought I'd have some old field exorcist tied to me forever," he said suddenly, and she shuffled over to let him sit on the edge of the seat in the doorway. "I was ready to let him exorcise me. I didn't give a shit what happened. Earth hurts before you get used to it, and I just wanted to get out of there. If one of us had to get stuck in a foreign dimension I'd rather him than me. But it wasn't some old guy. It was you." He was staring up at the sky as he spoke. "You looked tired, and kinda scared of me.... And your smell made me dizzy. I wasn't prepared for it. So like an idiot, I warned you not to exorcise us both." He turned his head lazily to smile at her on the seat next to him, flashing his pointed teeth. "Best decision I ever made."

Maka didn't really mean to touch his cheek, but it happened. He leaned toward her, like he was exhausted, snaking his arms around her to pull her to him. His forehead rested against her shoulder and he idly traced the spot on her shirt that covered the scars the both shared.

"I didn't get there fast enough," he said, so quietly she barely heard.   
"Don't say that," Maka whispered, losing her fingers in his hair. It was thick and soft and she wondered why she had never done this before. "You did everything you could, and that is more than enough for me."  
"You could have died."  
"We. We could have died," she corrected calmly. She could feel him melting as she stroked his hair idly. "We're in this together, remember?"  
"Yeah... at least we know that if we fight the witches and fail miserably, we won't die alone," he snorted. The joke was morbid, but it made Maka chuckle nonetheless as they settled against the seat, still pressed together comfortably.

"Hey, Soul?" She asked, breaking their comfortable silence after a few moments. "Do I still make you dizzy?"  
"Fuck, yes," he laughed into her neck. "For a couple reasons."

And that was the best damn thing she'd ever heard.


	22. Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't decide whether this belonged at the end of the last chapter or the start of the next one, so I gave it its own just to be safe. 
> 
> A warning for blink-and-you'll-miss-it sexual references in this chapter.

When Maka awoke the next morning, it was because her feet were cold. The pre-dawn light barely shone through the dusty windows, and she lay wedged against the seat. Her eyes felt itchy. She was pressed against something warm, and groggily lifted her head to see Soul, eyes closed with his arm around her. Her shoulder was under his arm, and she used his shoulder as a pillow. That's right, she remembered that she had fallen asleep like this. She tucked her cold feet against his ankles for warmth and settled her head back down on his shoulder, letting his steady breaths ease her back into comfortable sleep.

But now that her brain had started to work, it wouldn't settle again. She was suddenly, illogically embarassed. If the night before was anything to go by, they had well and truly crashed through the threshold of reasonable doubt when it came to attraction, and yet she was afraid he'd open his eyes and wonder what the hell she was doing. There would be no "just friends" dodging from here on, though. She knew that. So, she took a deep breath, and settled her head back down, refusing to get worked up or worried. No, she would enjoy this while she could. Just herself and him, completely alone, her ear pressed to his chest as she listened to the steady breaths of.... Slumber. 

Maka pushed herself up on her forearms, looking down at Soul with wide eyes. Unless she was mistaken, Soul was sleeping. She waved a hand over his eyes, then clicked her fingers. Nothing. His mouth hung ever so slightly ajar. "Soul?" She whispered. She felt bad for waking him up, but she couldn't be sure whether it was something to worry about. He had never slept before. With a start, she worried if it was some unforeseen consequence of something she had done. When she shook his shoulder gently, he stirred, furrowing his brow and trying to roll into her. Unfortunately, there was nowhere for her to go in order to accommodate this, so he just kind of squished her against the seat.

"Soul!" Maka complained, shaking him shoulder a bit more. He breathed right in her face, and it was somewhat interesting to note that demons were not exempt from morning breath. Not that she could talk, since her mouth felt like sandpaper. She was lucky to have escaped the previous night without a hangover, she supposed. 

Slowly, his eyes opened. At first, he squinted at her, as if reluctant to look too long and lose his grip on sleep. His eyes shut again, then opened, and he drew his head back to look at her in focus. "Hey," he said groggily, touching her hair. "Where's the light coming from?"  
"The sun," Maka said quietly, trying to sit up. "I think you were asleep."  
"Hm," Soul hummed, surprisingly calm. "That's weird."  
Astonished that he wasn't as concerned as she, Maka raised her eyebrows. "Isn't that.... I don't know, kind of a big deal?"  
"Bound to happen eventually. Kid said it would," Soul shrugged, trying and failing to fight off a yawn.  
"I feel like you're taking this very lightly. Are you sure we shouldn't be worried?"  
"You could tell me I have seconds to live and it couldn't rain on my parade right now," he smirked. "But it's touching that you're so concerned." He closed his eyes again, but she felt his content so strongly. Despite her concerns, it made her smile. Soul was happy.

Maka was busy smiling when he cracked one eye open to peer at her. "You look like a raccoon."  
"Yes, well, I don't suppose you're hiding micellar water in any of those pockets?" Maka rolled her eyes.  
"I'm pretty sure you just made that word up but whatever," he snorted. His fingertips idly traced her collarbones. He seemed to like doing that. "It's cool, I dig it. You look like you're about to molotov someone."  
Maka laughed quietly and patted herself down. "You know, I left all my explosives and ratty flannels at home."

Maka noticed, now that she was awake, that the limo was awfully musty. Probably a combination of its age and that people had slept in it. "Can you get the window?"  
"I don't think the power would be working," Soul pointed out.  
"Ah, right you are, but here's a fun automotive fact: if your car was made in 1982 like I suspect this one was, all the windows are cranks. See that lever thing? Turn it."

Soul sat up and peered at it skeptically. He turned it, watching the window slide very slowly, chunks of dust raining from the freshly made gap. "How exhausting," Soul huffed after he'd cracked it only a few inches. All they could send outside was the wall of cars they were beside. They left the window the door they entered through alone, just in case anyone decided to approach.

"I am really glad I wasn't summoned in 1982," he snorted, slumping back into the seat.  
"Well, I wasn't born yet, so count your blessings," Maka laughed. "It was a chaotic time. Lots of music and cocaine."  
"When were you born?" He asked, turning to her with curiosity. "Like, your birthday. You have those, right? You throw parties and shit."  
"Yeah," she smiled. "May 12th. Why?"  
"Feels like something I should know," he shrugged. "And it's kind of interesting. I don't really have one."  
"That seems.... Sad," Maka admitted. "You should pick one."  
"What, a birthday?"  
"Yeah!"  
"That's not how it works."  
"Why not?"

He looked at her, seeming hesitant. "It wouldn't serve and purpose."  
"Yes, it would!" She insisted. "Birthdays are about celebrating a person."  
He considered this. "Pick one for me."  
"October 31st would be appropriate, since you're a spooky scary demon," she poked her tongue out at him, but he just stared at her blankly. "It's... You know, Halloween?"  
"What's Halloween?"  
Maka grinned slowly. "It's great fun. You have a lot to learn, fresh blood," she teased, resting her head on his shoulder.

He traced circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, her hand resting in his. "It's weird," she mused suddenly.  
"What is?"  
"I always imagined we'd kiss under the pressure of impending doom or something. Like a now or never kind of thing."  
She could hear the grin in his voice. "You imagined us kissing?"

Maka blushed red hot, and shifted in her seat. "N-no. Shut up. Don't think I didn't see you lurking in the hallway yesterday when I was reaching for the cereal box."  
"I deny these allegations."  
"Overruled."  
"Objection!"  
"I already overruled."  
"I don't think either of us know enough about courtrooms to be having--"

Their giggles and whispering were interrupted by a loud knock at the window. The dark limo tinting meant that they could both see BlackStar rapping on the glass, but he couldn't see them. Maka suddenly panicked, and flung herself off the seat to throw Soul's jeans at him. 

"Hurry!" She hissed frantically. "Shit, he must have seen your shoes outside!"  
"Hello? Up and at em, sleepyhead," BlackStar called, knocking again.  
"Where's the fire?" Soul raised an eyebrow, struggling into his jeans in the cramped space.  
"Just get dressed!"  
"Oh absolutely, we can't have him think I slept in the least comfortable pants ever conceptualised"  
"No, because--"  
"Are you talking to me? Because I can't hear you," BlackStar called through the door. "Knock knock, who's there? God. Up and at 'em."  
"Never mind," Maka whispered. "Just stay in here and come out when he's gone."  
"Maka, wait--"  
"Don't talk, or he'll know you're in here."  
"You don't understand, he's gonna see--"  
"Where the hell is your shirt?"  
"Maka, I will drag you outta that car," BlackStar threatened.

Maka burst through the door, sliding through the smallest possible gap and closing the door very firmly after her. Nailed it. Now all she had to do was avoid suspicion and get BlackStar to go away, so Soul could sneak back undetected. 

"Finally, she rises," he rolled his eyes. "Get over here, everyone is awake and I'm doing a piss poor job of explaining."  
"I--" Maka trailed off as she realised something. "Hang on a moment. Did god himself just... Ask for my help?"  
"No."  
"I must be mistaken!"  
"You are."  
"Well, I'd better get over there right away!" She laughed dramatically.

"Please. And where's that demon of yours?"  
Maka sputtered, looking for a bluff. "Around... Somewhere?"  
"Left his shoes here. Weirdo," BlackStar scoffed. He looked at her and did a double take, squinting at her. "You had the time to pack a change of clothes and that's what you chose?" He asked incredulously. Perplexed, Maka looked down at her shirt...

Soul's shirt. 

She'd been unable to find her own in the dark the night before, so she had slipped his on. Hers was bunched in a corner somewhere. 

"Um..."  
BlackStar rubbed his chin. "It kinda looks like--"  
"Anyway, I need to change clothes again, so I'll see you over there," Maka announced, pushing BlsckStar back towards the van.  
"But--"  
"Bye now!"

BlackStar looked very confused, but did as she said, disappearing back towards the van. Maka flung the door open and slid back inside the limo, letting out a long sigh.

"He really is unobvservant," Soul muttered, impressed.  
"On the contrary, he has all the clues, he's just slow to arrive at the conclusion. We have about fifteen minutes until the penny drops, at best. Just watch," Maka told him. She picked up her shirt off the floor and pulled his over her head to throw it at his bare chest. "Might need this."

Maka had already pulled her shirt on, while Soul was busy buttoning his. They'd be outside in a moment, with bigger things to worry about. So she took the opportunity to scoot forward and kiss him quickly, her hand on his shoulder. He looked dazed, so she took his hand and tugged him towards the limo door. "You ready?"  
"No," he smirked, but followed her anyway. 

She waited while he put his shoes back on, because she still lacked her own footwear. He crouched and flicked his head, and she jumped onto his back. He caught her under her knees, and began to march towards the van. Maka clung to his warmth and decided that even if the whole party had been a complete disaster, she couldn't possibly be mad about it. 

"Finally!" Tsubaki called, beckoning them over. Ox was sitting rod straight, glancing nervously at his demon, while Kim chatted to hers. "We sort of explained things."  
"I'm still very confused," Ox pointed out.  
"Don't exorcise each other is the short version," Maka said as she slid off Soul's back. "The long version is more complicated. Why don't you introduce us?"  
"Right," Tsubaki hummed. "This is Harvar," she said, pointing to Ox's demon.  
"And this is Jaqueline," Kim butted in, waving at Maka and Soul. "Did you know she can just summon fire?"  
Maka whistled, impressed. "Why can't you do that, Soul?" She teased, nudging him with her elbow.  
"Drop me a beat and I'll spit fire," BlackStar butted in.

"Is Kid around?" Maka asked, anxious to meet the mysterious informant of her father's.  
"Not yet," BlackStar groaned. "Let's hope we don't have to sit around all day."  
"Well, I suppose we could play trivia or something until he gets back," Maka shrugged. "Not a whole lot else for it."

Ten minutes later, while everyone else was preoccupied with an impromptu game of charades, Blackstar noticed Maka wiping dust off Soul's very familiar shirt, and with wide eyes he gasped "Oooooooh."


	23. Those Who Rule In Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys, I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! A combination of family stuff, work, and writer's block delayed this one heavy, and I had to re-write it twice because I keep changing minor details of future events that effect the information here. Unfortunately this chapter still feels awkward to me because it's so dialogue heavy, but at this point I just wanna get it over with so I can keep moving. Thank you for being patient and sticking with me, I promise I haven't left you all hanging xo

Stein was a tall man, and looked at people the way one might study a recipe: scrutinizing details and deconstructing in his mind. It felt as though his gaze went right through Maka. But if he was a friend of her father's, and if even Kid vouched for his credibility, Maka had no choice but to tell herself that no, he probably wasn't going to dissect her in her sleep.

As soon as they had arrived at his house two blocks from the car yard, he had singled Maka out and beckoned her into his office, which she now saw shared a lot more in common with a lab. She had beckoned Soul after her, and Stein hadn't objected.

As the two of them exchanged glances, Stein stared at them in the silence, glancing between Maka and Soul. Finally, he requested "Your marks?" And Maka had to take a moment to figure out what he meant. She lifted her hand, indicating for Soul to do the same, and Stein examined their smallest fingers and the tiny marks on each.

"You got lucky; these are very subtle," he observed. It was true, especially in comparison to the shoulder stars that BlackStar and Tsubaki sported. Stein produced a tiny measuring tape and used it to compare the sizes of Maka and Soul's marks, and jotted something down in a notebook produced from his lab coat pocket. Then, he reached over to his desk and picked up a stethoscope, placing a hand on Maka's shoulder. "Do you mind?"  
"Am I sick?" Maka asked, glancing at Soul for help, but he simply stood with his hands in his pockets, looking bored.   
"I don't think so, but I'm trying to make sure. It's not every day you meet a teenager who has performed a dangerous summoning ritual and spent weeks with a bonded life force with no guidance," he reminded her, patting the examining table. 

Unable to find a flaw in this logic, she hopped up onto the table and let him listen to her heartbeat. He checked the scratches by her collarbones, measuring them before asking Soul to step over so he could compare the placement and take notes. Maka had noticed the night before that Soul's scars appeared to be healing faster than her own. As Stein turned to scribble away in his notebook, she felt Soul squeeze her hand, just for a second, and her stomach did a tiny somersault. She tried her best to relax as Stein recorded her temperature, checked her reflexes, and plucked a hair from Maka's head to see how Soul reacted. He flinched, and Stein scribbled it down, earning himself a look of annoyance from Soul. 

"So how exactly do you know my Papa?" Maka asked, growing nervous under the silent scrutiny. Stein looked up over the rims of his glasses, then motioned for her to stand. As he spoke, he took down her height.   
"We are very old friends. Went to school together, in fact. It is in the interest of his.... Peculiar ancestry that I began my studies in demonology. It's not a field that is looked kindly upon by the Exorcist council, as you can imagine, so I'd appreciate your discretion in exchange for mine."  
"Of course," Maka replied quickly. 

Stein motioned for them to return to the sitting room, and they left his study to find their friends where they had left them. There were definitely not enough seats for eleven people, so many milled around. When the doors opened, they turned and immediately began to start firing questions.

"Everyone, please," Stein shouted, a frown creasing his brow. "I'll tell you the situation, and then we can have questions after, got it?" They all agreed to some degree or another, so Stein wheeled his desk chair from his study and swung his leg over to sit on its backwards. Then, he began.

"Witches are like us, in many ways. So are demons, as I'm sure you have all come to discover. There is a key difference between exorcists and witches that has resulted in our current predicament: Witches cannot bond with demons. They can summon as many demons as their power will sustain, but they lack the kind of soul necessary to make the bond that you all share. Exorcists can only summon a demon when one calls to their soul. Back when all this was still known to us, exorcists would summon by reaching out and answering that call. I believe this is what BlackStar, Kim and Ox were able to do after being told the bond was possible in the first place. Some people -- a percentage I am not sure of myself -- are unable to summon because their soul demon doesn't exist. But clearly all of you met success."  
"Wait, slow down," BlackStar cut in, throwing out a palm as he blatantly ignored the instructions to hold questions until the end. "So how did Maka do it by accident?"  
"Demons are like.... Well, they are sort of a reflex. When you fall, you instinctively put your hands out and stop yourself from hitting the ground. For those of us who have a bonded soul in Hell, that soul reacts the same way and opens that call, doing half the work for the exorcist."

"But... you can't just accidentally burn the right herbs or draw the right circle," Tsubaki wondered aloud.  
"That's the thing, Tsubaki. I think I did," Maka sighed. "I was running, it was wet, and I lost my burning bag. The thing was vicious. I had no choice but to try to draw an exorcism circle in the mud. But I am not a rune exorcist, and I got something wrong in just the right way, I suppose. The odds are astronomically slim."

Stein adjusted his glasses, watching the group carefully. "As I was saying, exorcists have a single demon they can summon. This bond is meant to last, and will only end with death or exorcism, the effects of which the pair will share equally -- which is why it was never something done lightly and was, once, a reserved procedure for approved exorcists only. Witches have the freedom to summon many demons at once, but cannot bond. It is because of their inability to bond that they drove the exorcists down and conditioned them through trickery to turn against those from Hell with a prejudice that would last a thousand--"  
"I have a question," Ox piped up. He had been relatively quiet up until now. "If we can only bond with one demon.... How come he has two?"

Everyone turned to look at Kid, who leaned against the wall with his demons. He looked up casually at the break in conversation, but Stein answered for him.  
"Well... demons can be immensely abstract creatures, to the point where the demon can theoretically consist of multiple bodies inhabited by the same, single soul. Although Kid's demons may appear as two people and act as two people, you will likely find they possess a single soul and share the power of a full, single demon between the two of them." If Kid had anything to add to this, he didn't make comment of it. He didn't react at all, actually. He just kept to the back with Liz and Patti and watched Stein carefully. "Even without a bond, if one died then so too would the other."

"There is something I don't get," Kim cut in. "If the witches can summon multiple demons, why are they afraid of the guys who only get one?"  
"By my estimates, power of one demon with a bond is greater than that of even five unbound demons, at least," Stein shrugged.   
"That can't be right," Soul insisted. "I fought Giriko twice, and both times I had to really beat him down before he stayed down. The second time I even had backup. You make it sound like it should be effortless."  
"That is because you're all amateurs," Stein shrugged. BlackStar in particular bristled, but Tsubaki waved him down. 

"You come out of hell in an odd state. You know your base purpose, but the details are foggy. Eventually you re-lear things, correct?" Soul nodded, and Tsubaki shrugged. "Well, there are some things you can't re-learn because you never had to do them in hell. Maka," he turned to her, and she blanched. "When you first saw Soul, what did he look like?"  
"You mean when I summoned him? He was all..." She gestured high above her demon's head, indicating height. "He absolutely towered over me, and had this pinstripe suit on, but he wasn't wearing shoes. There were parts of his weapon sticking out of his body. Like his arm, it was a blade from like..." She reached forward and gently wrapped her fingers around his arm, just above the elbow. "Around here? And his mouth was.... Like a shark's grin." Soul avoided her gaze.

"I imagine each of you had a similar experience. This form you all have now is an adaptation to your current realm, and with enough intent from both yourselves and your exorcists, you can achieve it again. I hate to say it after all your efforts to fight off Arachne's agents, but I believe you have been fighting with an arm tied behind your back, so to speak." Stein smiled tightly. "If we have any hope of success against her, I shall have to have all of you transforming to your full potential."  
Maka felt Soul tense, and she herself raised a brow. "Arachne? Isn't Medusa the one behind all this?" 

As though exhausted, Stein slumped. His fingers rubbed circles on the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses away. After a moment, he sighed. "You know less than I had hoped, then. I have a lot to fill you in on while you all practice. Medusa is a player in the game, but she doesn't pull the strings. That grand duty falls to Arachne, the witch of hell." He met Maka's eye, the look on his face grave. "Should we fail to stop her plans, no exorcist on earth will survive the repercussions."

"What plans are those, exactly?" Crona asked, standing from their seat on the sofa. Their voice didn't shake, for once; they looked concerned. They knew better than anyone how deep the power and influence of witches ran.   
"There is an ancient doorway, linked to hell. Every thousand years, the portal may be opened. The window is less than two hours, but if a witch gets a her hands on it, she is able to not only open the portal, but unleash thousands of demons upon the earth," Stain began.  
"She's going to flood earth with demons!?" Tsubaki cried angrily, her fists clenched.  
"If only it were that simple," Stein growled. "A thousand years ago, the witch Arachne not only opened the portal, but went through. Her witch blood has allowed her to survive in hell all this time."  
"Why would she do that?" Maka asked, unsure that she wanted to know the answer. "Who would go to hell for a thousand years?"

"Because she has been trying to rouse the archdemon Asura," Kid answered suddenly, breaking his silence. Everyone (with the exception of Stein) stared, in confusion.  
"Archdemon?" Ox asked, gripping the arm of the chair he sat in. "What even is that?"  
"The most powerful demons in hell," Kid replied. "They are ancient. Timeless, even. And very secretive -- they rarely, if ever, show themselves to regular demons, let alone the human world." Liz glanced at him, a smile curling at her lips. Maka briefly wondered what could possibly be amusing about this, but this new information was taking most of her attention. "There are three that I know of, and Asura is one of them. He is the ancient embodiment of madness, borne from evil. He is currently sealed away in hell, and Arachne entered hell a millennium ago with the intention of freeing him and unleashing him upon earth."

"So if that portal opens.... We get Asura and it's game over," Ox concluded, his hand on his chin, deep in thought. "How come she didn't release him when she went in in the first place?"  
"She needed something to wake him -- something she didn't have," Stein told him. "We believe that whatever it is, her followers have acquired it in the time of her absence. When that portal opens, not only will the witches summon demons with no restraint, they will send that catalyst through and allow the revival of Asura."

"We can't let that happen, at any cost!" Maka declared. "Whatever we have to do, we'll do it!"  
"And, what exactly do we have to do...?" Kim asked, crossing her arms.   
"Well, for a start," Stein began, tapping his foot, "You are all going to be needing a crash course in demonic transformation."

As he scurried to the wall to begin rifling through books, Soul brushed Maka's shoulder, turning away from the others to speak to her in a hushed tone. "Maka, you know that this doesn't just fall to you, right?"  
The unexpected advice took her off guard. "It falls to all of us. It has to."  
"I know. No choice, blah blah. Just don't overdo yourself on taking this responsibility. We're going to get through it, as a group. Together. And if things go south, it's not your fault."  
Maka knew what he was trying to say, but she didn't feel it in her heart. Regardless, she smiled. "Things aren't going to go south. Not when we have you."  
He snorted and turned away, and she felt a hint of embarassment. "Yeah, I'll Beethoven them to death. That'll show em." Whatever insecurity that was hinting, 

Maka was unable to pursue it, because Stein whirled with a book in his hand. "If you'll all follow me to the courtyard, I think we need to get started. Time is of the essence, I'm afraid." Soul nodded his head towards the door, and Maka followed him. This was going to be interesting.


	24. The Devil Wears Costume Jewellery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this like the moment I posted, just check that there isn't an extra bit at the end. I forgot to add an interaction in the first time around, sorry about that!

Stein's house was odd for many reasons. The fact it was wedged between a car yard and a cemetery being one of the more prominent reasons, of course. Dry weeds grew over the fencing and leaves littered the yard, and Maka got the feeling that Stein cared more about the interior than he did the exterior. Perhaps this was for the best, since said exterior was currently on fire.

"JACQUELINE! GO BACK!" Kim was wailing, while Tsubaki chased the tiny flaming demon, trying to steer her away from the dead, dry vegetation. BlackStar was perched on the fence howling with laughter, while Ox and Harvar were already switching back and forth between Harvar's forms effortlessly.

Soul wasn't having a great time.

"Stein said it might be harder," Maka reminded him. "You've been in this form the longest."  
"You're not helping," he sighed, his eyes closed. He sat cross-legged in the dirt, trying to concentrate. So far, every pair except Maka and Soul had been able to re-call the demons' hell forms. As promised, they had all looked as they had when they first appeared; Tsubaki with her chain haloes, Jacqueline with her fiery form, and Harvar with molten gold dripping across his skin and electric energy crackling at his fingertips. Soul's form hadn't so much as wavered, and while his stony exterior didn't give much away, Maka could feel that it was bothering him more than he was willing to let on.

"Maybe you should try to make him angry," Kim hummed, approaching behind Maka with her hands on her hips. "Or scare him, like jump out when he isn't expecting it."  
BlackStar, subconsciously attracted to crowds at all times, was already sliding over now that Jacqueline was no longer setting things on fire. "Or play him some really heavy tunes," he suggested. "I have my MP3 player, I"  
"With respect, I think the fuck not," snorted Soul, his eyes still closed. "On the account that it's not 2006 and who the fuck still uses MP3 players?"  
"Damn BlackStar, roasted by the guy who's been on the planet for like a 30th of the time you have," Kim cackled as she slipped away.  
"Hey, I have a perfectly legitimate--" he trailed off, jogging after her in a desperation to clear his name. Or justify his ancient technology -- Maka stopped listening before that became clear.

As the others ran off, Stein sauntered over, an unreadable expression on his face. "You're still struggling, Soul?"  
"Not as easy as it looks, old man," Soul grumbled, his eyes still closed. "Might wanna think about a few backup demons, just in case."  
"Absolutely not," Stein answered, far too quickly. Like he had already had this conversation with himself. "The risk we would take recruiting more exorcists when the witches already watch for us would be astronomical."  
"Can I at least get some new clothes? Living between pajamas and a party dress isn't doing me much good," Maka told him, folding her arms.  
Stein studied her for a moment, then turned away to saunter back to the others. "There will be someone this afternoon. Hang on until then."

As Maka watched Stein walk away and bubbled in her annoyance, Soul said her name quietly. She knelt in the dust beside him. "We need more," he told her.  
"More?" She asked, raising a brow.  
"Demons. We're going to get minced, otherwise. There are seven of us; one of whom is attached to a person and another can't transform. How many demons when that gate opens?"  
"Stein just said it was too risky," Maka reminded him. "Like just... Not even a minute ago."  
"You're choosing this moment to become a rule-follower again? Where's the girl who broke into staff storerooms?" He cracked an eye to smirk at her.

As much as she hated it, he had a point, and if they didn't do something about it, who would? It didn't help that winking and smirking on his behalf was becoming a very persuasive technique of late. "Stein won't be happy," she told him. "It's reckless and there is a very good chance we will get caught by either our friends or our enemies. Plus, where will we find my peers? How do we know who to trust?"

"You need to find somewhere your classmates gather outside of school," said a voice over Maka's shoulder, and she just about jumped out of her skin. It was becoming more and more clear that Tsubaki seemed to have a knack for moving as silently as the wind when she wanted to. "Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she said bashfully. "But I do agree that it will be very difficult to hold off a flood of demonic force on our own."  
"But it's not like we can train an army without Medusa noticing, right?" Maka sighed. "I just don't see how we can do it."  
"Get enough people together and by the time she notices, she won't be able to touch us," Soul hummed. "It's a bold move."

"So what, I just need to sneak out in the night, find some imaginary youth hangout and ferry a herd of confused teenagers to this," Maka paused to gesture to the eerie house before them, "so we can get them all to open gates to hell?"  
"Yeah," Soul shrugged, looking to Tsubaki for support.  
"Sounds good!" She concurred.  
"Incredible. You're both mad. There is no way."

And yet that evening, after the sun had set, Maka was walking out of a costume store in a bright purple wig and a long black coat that was so synthetic that it felt like wearing a plastic bag. She glowered at Soul, who looked like he belonged in a pop punk band from 2004 and didn't seem to mind at all, even adding some gaudy rings "because they're only .80¢!". Tsubaki had chosen to dress like she belonged on the set of Predator, even though Maka had tried to explain that they were wearing disguises, not costumes. Kim, who Maka had convinced to attend due to her influence with their peers, had put a long black wig over her pink hair and elected to keep her school uniform on. For the purpose of subtlety, BlackStar had not been included in the plan, though Maka was having her doubts regardless, especially listening to Tsubaki's army boots clomping down the sidewalk.

"I don't understand what value you see in a bunch of dorks that play basketball all night," Kim grumbled.  
"The last place Medusa would look for us is here," Maka whispered, as they watched from across the street while eight or so kids were shooting hoops.  
"My wig itches," Soul complained.  
"Nobody forced you into this, Fallout Boy," Kim snapped.  
"What's a Fallout Boy?"  
"I'm going in," Maka announced.

Before waiting for a response, she strode across the street and slipped into a shadowy half of the court, watching the players for people she knew. Kim did the same, though she didn't look optimistic, given the crowd. To Maka's surprise, it was actually Tsubaki who stepped forward when the group took a break, approaching one young boy in the crowd. Maka didn't know his name, but she had seen him with BlackStar before, recognising his braided hair. She watched in surprise as Tsubaki whispered a rather urgent exchange, then nodded to him. She then scurried back to them, trying not to grin.

"Maka, you have less friends than a literal demon from hell," Soul teased, and she nudged him with her elbow.  
"That was BlackStar's friend! Can you believe it?" She said with excitement. " I have been here before, BlackStar plays here all the time. That guy thinks he can bring a couple of people along with him. He was there at the party, so it's actually kind of lucky that I didn't have to explain..."  
"Way to go Tsubaki," Maka grinned. As her eyes wandered, she caught sight of a familiar underclassman. "Be right back," she said, and pushed off the wall to approach the dark-haired boy.

"Hey, I don't know if we have ever spoken--" Maka began, but was cut off by the boy hissing and spinning her away from his friends.  
"You can't be here. The school is looking for you guys and I don't want to be snitched on or implicated," he grumbled, letting her go to run a hand across his close-shaven head.  
"Implication is the least of your troubles," Maka hissed. "Because in just days our exorcist government is going to unleash hell, literally."  
"Is that so," he rolled his eyes. "Sorry, what was your name again?"  
Maka was suddenly annoyed. Apparently her brief past interactions with this guy hadn't prepared her for how much of a dick he was. "I don't care if you don't come and help us, but if you know anyone else who's interested in performing a forbidden summoning ritual to save the world, let them know that they can probably find what they're looking for at the car wrecker's yard. Got it?"

He gazed at her with a squint, like he was sizing her up. "Aight, whatever," he waved her away dismissively, and Maka slinked back to her friends. That didn't go nearly as well as she had been hoping. Kim was even talking to a younger blonde girl like they had been friends for years.

"How'd it go?" Soul asked, sliding over to her so their arms were pressed against each other as they leaned on the wall.  
"Not great."  
"Not bad either though, right?" He asked hopefully. "Don't beat yourself up, you're talking to the guy who spent all day trying and failing to transform."  
"You'll get there," Maka reminded him.  
"And so will you. Quit worrying. I'm just happy we can get out of that creepy house for a couple hours," he snorted. "I've never had to sneak out before, it's fun."  
"Oh trust me, it gets old. My Papa is the protective type, so I know all about it," she smiled. "It's all fun and games until you break a drainpipe."  
"You didn't."  
"I did."  
"But you're so tiny," he laughed, clearly imagining her misfortune.  
"And the screws were sooooo rusty," she pointed out. "Don't laugh at me."  
"Too late," he chortled. 

"Get a room, you two," Kim called as she walked over, tapping away at her phone.  
"What about a limo?" Soul muttered, and Maka stomped on his foot so hard that they both hissed. "What was that for?!"  
"You know exactly what that was for!"  
"Why are you guys whispering?" Kim asked with a raised eyebrow. "Anyway, that girl is gonna tell her classmates or whatever. With any luck, we can get a decent turnout between us."

"I'm proud. Now we just need to sneak back in and then act innocent when Stein asks where all these people have come from, right?" Maka said with optimism. They all shared a silence.  
"We're definitely going to get caught," Kim sighed. "That creepy teacher might dissect us."  
"Stop it," Maka hissed as she turned away from the court to begin the walk home.... mostly because she wasn't sure if their suggestions were so farfetched after all. "He wouldn't dissect us... Probably...."

Maka paused as she realised that Tsubaki and Soul weren't following them. "Hey you two, do you wanna walk and talk at the same time?" She called. Soul jolted at the sound of her voice, and she got the odd and slightly uncomfortable feeling that they were talking about her. Tsubaki patted Soul's shoulder, said something Maka couldn't hear, and began to follow. After a moment, Soul put his hands in his pockets and followed. Maka waited while Kim and Tsubaki walked on, throwing him an inquisitive look as he caught up to her. "What was that about?"  
Soul surprised her by taking her hand and tugging her along. If he was stressed, she couldn't feel it; if anything, he seemed almost resolved in comparison to his gloomy mood that had persisted all day. "Nothing. Let's go, I miss your real hair and my entire head itches."  
Maka smiled fondly, squeezing his hand. "Okay."


	25. Personal Victory

Soul was struggling to hide his yawn as Stein drummed his fingers on the back of his desk chair. He had wheeled in just moments ago while Maka read a book on the sofa, and had seemed troubled to see the two of them. "Up late, were we?" He asked, and while the phrase was accusatory, it seemed like he didn't care much for the answer. His mind was elsewhere. 

"It has only been a day, Professor," Maka was saying, curled up on the sofa in a hoodie and bike shorts, an odd ensemble put together with the heap of goodwill clothes that had been smuggled into Stein's for them the day before. "It's not that unusual, right?" She was so supportive, but Soul couldn't help but feel guilty that the problem was him. No matter how encouraging she was, he remembered the very first night they met, how she had run in terror. He didn't want to make her run away, and maybe that stupid, petty feeling was what stopped him. Every time he tried to transform, it was almost like there was a brick wall he kept hitting. 

"You believe the block to be mental. Emotional." Stein's eyes were on Soul, and he almost shrank. "And I think that might be true."  
"Shit. I knew it. I'm sorry, Maka--"  
"It's not just you," Stein told him. "It's both of you."  
Maka stiffened. "Both of us?"  
"As I told all of you yesterday, a transformation is a transaction. Between the two of you. Sometimes even when just one party lacks confidence, it can work, though the transformation isn't as strong. As you saw yesterday, Jacqueline had some difficulty reining in her actions and my lawn suffered the consequences." Stein didn't seem particularly bothered by his lawn as he said this. Which was just as well, because it had been dead to begin with. "But when both withhold, I am led to believe that a transformation is difficult, if not impossible."

"So, what?" Soul asked, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice. It was one thing to blame himself, and quite another for someone else to do it. "What hangups could we possibly have?"  
"Well, I'm a scientist, not a psychologist, so I really couldn't tell you why you aren't resonating properly, so to speak," Stein sighed, standing from him seat and ushering them toward the glass door that led into his open garden. They stepped out into the morning light as Stein held the door. "But how about you come inside once you've figured it out, hmm?"

With that, he slid the door shut and maintained eye contact as he flicked the lock. Soul supposed that last part wasn't really a suggestion. 

"Well, that was helpful," Maka groaned, walking into a sunny spot and flopping down into the dust.  
"Is there something bothering you?" Soul asked, unable to keep his anxiety at bay. His own fear stemmed from her potential to fear him, but a part of him had known it was irrational. Now he didn't know if it was irrational at all.   
Maka sighed. "Soul, please don't tell me you're going to take that to heart. There is nothing bothering me. At least, nothing I can think of."  
"Well, there must be, or else we wouldn't be locked out here," he insisted.   
Maka bristled and threw her arms up. "What about you?"   
"I'm worried," he shrugged. "It's apparently getting to me."  
"Because that's not vague."  
Soul sighed and sat down in the dust a few feet away from her, facing her head on. "What do you want Maka, an essay?"

She folded her arms and stared at him. At first he thought she might get angry, but she relaxed slowly after a minute. "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'a chain is only as strong as its weakest link'?" When Soul shook his head, she continued, "It means that it doesn't matter how strong a collective is if there is a part of it that is weak. If the weak link breaks, so does the whole chain. When we get through this, you might be more powerful but I'm still the same liability that I always have been. I'm the weak link."  
Soul watched her carefully. "You are human, Maka. You can't change that. You will always be fragile, and as your demon I exist on this plane to compensate for that."  
Maka's eyes were focussed on a blade of dead grass that she was twirling in her fingers. "Fragile," she echoed. "It's not that simple. You're not just 'my demon'. You're..."  
"What?"  
"It doesn't matter," Maka replied, tossing the blade of grass aside.

"Yes, it does." Soul scooted forward to close the space enough that he could grasp her hands. "Maka, you may be physically fragile, but you're way stronger in here than I ever will be," he told her, pressing two fingers to her chest, above her heart. "You're contagious. You know exactly what you believe in and what you want. I doubt myself every single damn day," he admitted. "But if you're there, i know it's going to be okay. There is no weak link. Teams play to each others' strengths and weaknesses. You have things that I never will, even if I am a demon."  
"But even that is changing! It's my fault. I summoned you, weeks and weeks ago, and now I'm afraid I've taken away a part of you. You fell asleep the other night. Sometimes you get hungry. I wanted you to be like me so badly, and now I might have ruined this for you," she gasped, leaning forward to put her forehead on his shoulder. "I feel like I did this to you. You said it; I'm contagious."

Soul considered this. What had Stein said? That his time in this world made him more humanlike, to an extent. It wasn't Maka's fault. And even if it was, she was only half the blame. "It's funny, just a few months ago I would have laughed at any demon who wanted to become human. Now i'm about as close as a demon can get and it still doesn't feel like enough."  
"You're jealous? Of us?" Maka scoffed.  
"Jealousy isn't the reason," he told her, squeezing her hand. "But you're strong in ways that I'm not, and that's what this is about. You can't change that you're human any more than I can change that I'm demon. What you can do is help me help you." 

Maka gave him a long look. Behind her, around the corner of the house, there was a roar of flame as BlackStar whooped. The others who had been able to transform had been duelling for fun. Maka turned and watched as Tsubaki fluttered in and out of view, her chains glinting in the sun. Finally, she turned back to Soul.

"And what about you?" She asked, tilting her head. "Why are you afraid to transform."  
Once again, the image of her turning tail and running from him in the rain flashed in his mind. "It's dumb."  
"No, it isn't."  
"I really think it is," Soul responded tightly. After her emotional confession, his hangups seemed trivial. Laughable, even. "I'm afraid that you... Would be scared of me."  
Maka pressed her lips together for a few moments. "You think I'd be scared of you?"  
"You were before," he shrugged. "It's fair enough. I'm not pretty like the other guys when I get all..." He clawed his hands and made a face, which made her laugh. It was beautiful.  
"Before the shock wore off, i was scared," Maka chortled. "It was a high stress situation. But now I know you, on the inside, and that won't change even if the outside does." He grinned at her, like an idiot. "Plus, it's hard to be scared of a demon when you know his dream job is to play at a jazz club."

Soul took each of her hands in each of his and sat up straight. "You aren't weak, I'm not scary. We can do this."  
Maka sat up too. "Oh, right now?" She shuffled to get more comfortable as Soul closed his eyes to concentrate. "Should I do anything? Hum? Tell a story? Shout encouragement? Get snacks?"  
"Rub my hands with your thumbs?" He blurted, before he could filter it out.  
His eyes were closed, but he could feel her blush anyway. "Does it help?"  
"No, it's just nice," he shrugged. "And if I don't give you a job to do you'll talk." She laughed, but did as he asked, and was mercifully quiet as he concentrated.

The instructions on how to start hadn't been frightfully clear. It didn't help that Stein's knowledge was limited to old texts, many of them redacted or incomplete. He tried imagining his demon form, but that didn't appear to help. Next he tried to imagine reaching into his core and pulling out something. In his imagination it was shiny. It didn't help, either. Finally he took a deep breath and sighed, trying to envision that he was pushing the whispers of power at his core out through his skin, like spikes, like his body was swelling with it.

It was Maka's squeak of delight that wrenched his eyes open, and he saw her holding one of his hands, which now dwarfed her own in comparison, and in her other hand sat the edge of a blade that sprouted from his elbow. The first thing Soul noticed was how wearing this skin felt a lot different than it used to. Less comfortable, more unusual. Maka stood and Soul followed, towering over her with his bare feet in the dust. The pole of his scythe protruded in the space between them.

"You did it! I knew it!" Maka clapped, hopping up and down on the spot.   
"You're so small," Soul told her fondly, giving her head a pat. She swatted at him, but he knew she wasn't truly mad.   
"You have two voices at once," she commented. Soul hadn't ever really thought about that, but his voice did have an echo.   
"Come on," Soul grinned, making his way around the building. 

When he loped towards the group, Kim shouted in alarm. BlackStar whooped and Patti did little hops. "Son of a bitch, you did it!" BlackStar called, beckoning Soul and Maka. Crona was even offering a rare smile, teeth and all, as they sat in the dirt watching the others.  
Kid was less than impressed. "How unforgivably asymmetrical you are," he complained, averting his gaze as his eye twitched. What a wierd dude.

"Took you long enough," Sniffed Ox. Harvar, in demon form, stood passively beside him. "So, what can you do?"  
"I make a mean casserole, as it turns out," Soul offered up, earning a snort from Tsubaki.   
Ox sighed, and his demon shook his head. "I have electricity," said Harvar. The demon lifted his hand and flexed his fingers as sparks danced across his skin. Soul watched with veiled fascination. He and Maka hadn't had much of a chance to see any of this up close.

"Tsubaki's is way cooler. Show 'em," BlackStar butted in, folding his arms across his chest. When Tsubaki looked exasperated, he ushered her with his hand and she sighed. Her transformation was easy; her body lifted off the ground and the changes seemed to creep across her skin. Chains seemed to spawn from the earth itself, rising to form a halo around her. She held her palms open, and as if sliding out of sleeves that weren't there, two kunai knives appeared in her hands. She brought her palms together and in place of the kunai, she unsheathed a single-edged sword from her own hand.

"Debatably cooler," Ox grumbled.   
"Stop it you guys, they aren't action figures," Crona complained, standing up from the ground.   
"Well I don't mind," Jacqueline cut in as she floated as if she was in a pool, except that she was midair and four feet off the ground. Her skin smouldered and crackled with heat. Although Soul was too far away, he felt the heat of her body through his connection with Maka, who stood next to the fiery demon. "It's seems pretty obvious what I do. Hell is cold, so you can imagine how popular I used to be," she laughed.   
"You're popular with me," hummed Kim warmly, as she leaned close to Jacqueline's body. "My personal heater."

Soul knew, of course, exactly what his demon body did. If you hang around in hell for who knows how long, you tend to figure out these things. He reached down with the one hand that was still a hand, and grasped the pole of the scythe that protruded from his abdomen.   
"Please don't do what I think you're about to do," Crona groaned, covering their face with their hands as Soul began to pull a scythe from his body.   
"You just saw Tsubaki do it," Ox sniffed. "What's the difference?"  
"The difference is hands are less gross than guts when it comes to pulling weapons out of your body," Kim said with her lip curled in grim fascination. 

When Soul was finished, the vicious curve of the red and black blade glinted in the sun. "Ta da," he said sarcastically.   
"Sick," BlackStar muttered, eyeing it as if it were art.   
"Very cool, but one question," Ox butted in, even going so far as to raise his hand. "How do you expect to wield a two-handed weapon with only one hand?"  
"It's not for me," Soul snorted, and held the scythe out to the side. Maka reached up and took it; she knew it well enough, having used it before. But this time, the blade seemed to hum with energy, a strange and discordant song. "It's for her."

"Let me see that," Kid demanded suddenly, marching forward to examine the blade in Maka's hands. Gingerly, he brushed his hand above the weapon without quite touching it.  
"Curious indeed. If I'm not mistaken, this blade has--"  
"Hey, who the hell is that?" BlackStar interrupted, pointing as a group of eight or so people trudged across the grass towards them. 

Soul grinned, and he felt Maka's elation. "The cavalry."


	26. Birds Of A Feather

The moon was so bright that it cast a shadow as Kid stood outside the Exorcist Academy. For weeks he had been preparing these people, ever since he had been told of a tear between the hell and earth dimensions; watching his classmates, monitoring school database searches, planting books where curious parties might come to steal them, and chasing away competition so the right people could win tours of council headquarters. They had even brought on even more students, and for the past week Kid had watched with a growing sense of dread as around twenty kids, human or otherwise, threw each other around in the dirt and laughed, almost like their lives weren't on the line. What had started as one human accidentally summoning a demon had somehow snowballed into some kind of fucked up, high stakes seance Olympics, and it was partially his fault. Kid was pushing it. He was always pushing it. He wasn't supposed to interfere like this.

Kid, for all intents and purposes, was more than this moment in time and space. This was all below him, and in thousands of years he would barely even remember the events that seemed so dire right now. Yet, his fingers hovered above the glass as the condensation from his breath faded into nothing. He was both afraid of what his father would say, and what he wouldn't. Kid was supposed to watch and report, not involve himself. And yet here he was, with a flock of humans and demons ready to go to war on Kid's information. He had a responsibility to make the right choices, as a being with power above all others on the Earth plane.

"Having second thoughts, kitten?" Almost. Almost above all others.

"What are you doing here?" Kid asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I thought you made your call not to get involved. You could extend me the same privilege."  
"Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I thought about it looooong and hard. It's so difficult to leave humans to their fate, especially when you see their little faces!" Blair cooed. "But why listen to me? You know who you really want to ask. It's why you're standing around, breathing on school windows in the dead of night."  
"I don't need him to make my choices for me," Kid snapped. When Blair raised her eyebrows, Kid sighed and stepped away from the wall. 

"Fate has it's own ideas, and if we meddle where we shouldn't, it could throw both dimensions into chaos," Kid reminded her. In the darkness, her eyes flashed and glowed, reflecting the dim moonlight. "Where do we draw the line? One little favor here, one battle there... How far does it go, before we begin to play god? It's what the witches are trying to help Asura do, and it's why we are in this mess in the first place. How are we any better if we start to manipulate the worlds the way we want them?"  
"Fight fire with fire, kitten," cooed the woman. "You are not Asura. The very fact that you are here now, debating whether or not it's beyond your place to step in, is a testament to that."  
Kid stared at her for a long moment, debating her words. "Fight fire with fire, and the whole world burns."  
"What's a little fire in hell itself?" She laughed.

"Why the change of heart?" Kid asked suddenly. "When we spoke at the party you made it clear you were staying out of it." Indeed, it had been a surprise to run into one of the only other people like him on earth -- at a high school party, no less.  
Blair folded her arms in an uncharacteristically vulnerable moment. "Maybe like you, I'm sick of watching without acting. Humans don't live very long, but they make far more out of 80 years than I do in 500. To them, this is life and death. Purrhaps they're onto something. For a thousand years, that witch has been in hell, whispering to Asura right under our noses, and it has been allowed because none of us think it's our business to act. Death keeps him at bay, but whatever those witches plan on doing when the portal opens, we must help to stop them doing it. Our intervention on that basis means we are only helping Death do his duty; keep Asura asleep."

Kid sighed and leaned against the rough stone wall. "And yet our intervention could mean we are outed for what we really are. Our place as quiet observers could be upturned."  
Blair clicked her tongue. "We can't quietly observe anything if the witches fuse the dimensions together. There won't be an earth to observe," Blair pointed out. "And all the cute boys will probably die."  
"Stay impartial and accept what happens, or save the humans from our own kind. A difficult choice indeed," Kid agreed, ignoring her swoony comments. His mind churned with the unknown. "Though perhaps we have passed a point where we can no longer consider Asura as our own kind at all."

Blair was silent for a few moments. "And there is one other thing that helped to sway my mind," she said suddenly, with a discomfort that was out of place. Her face was pulled into a look of discomfort. "If the barrier between Hell and Earth is torn apart by Asura, any and all demons will roam free with those who survive. Including..."  
Kid clenched his teeth. "Including... THAT guy." Together, they made an audible sound of discomfort. 

Kid kicked off the wall and stood up. "You're right. We were entrusted to watch over the earth, but it's up to us to decide whether and when watching over it includes protecting it, and Hell, from each other."  
"Atta' boy," cooed Blair. "I think a change of pace is well overdue, don't you?"  
"Hm. And let's just hope it's what Father would have wanted of us. Easier to ask forgiveness and all that," Kid sighed. "I should get back to Stein's before anyone suspects I was running away in the dead of night."  
"Oh shush, I knew all this time you weren't really going to leave them on their own," Blair laughed, turning on her heel to return to the street.  
"And how do you figure?" Kid sighed, raising his brow. She really did love the theatrics of it all.  
"If you were truly running off, your girls would be with you," she shrugged. "Sleep tight, kitten."

Kid chewed his lip in annoyance, eye narrowed. He supposed that he couldn't stay too upset. It was just her way; he had been putting up with for centuries while they both independently watched over the exorcist world. He had learned not to complain by now, since it was par for the course with people like himself and Blair. All archdemons were strange in their own ways, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^) sürprise


	27. From Below

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm not dead! 
> 
> Sorry for the super late update, I have just started a new job with way different hours and it's taken a while to get into a routine again. We're on the home stretch now, well and truly. I'm really excited to get to the good bits :p 
> 
> Thanks for all your support, as always. It means so much to me xo

The breeze blew across the roof of Stein's house as the roudy group of teenagers cackled, watching BlackStar surfing across the concrete on Stein's chair. The wheels rattled like they would shatter at any moment, and when they met a seam in the floor, the chair lurched to a sudden stop. BlackStar toppled over the back of the chair, colliding with the pavement.

"Ow!" Tsubaki exclaimed, throwing him a weary look as she rubbed her freshly grazed elbows. BlackStar got up and pumped his fists into the air, and Maka cackled next to Soul, wiggling her toes by the fire they all gathered around. Soul had his legs crossed, but he could feel the almost-burning heat in his feet as well.

"Hey," Kim yelled suddenly, over BlackStar shouting about stunts. "Hey, so what happens once this gate thingy is closed?"  
The people near her quietened a little. Kilik's strange little demons turned their heads to Kim in unison. Tsubaki tapped her chin. "I don't know. Maybe some of us can go home?"  
"Sick of him already, huh?" Maka teased, nodding her head at BlackStar. Tsubaki laughed, shaking her head.  
"When the gate is closed, I'm going to go to school," Harvar announced. "Learn something cool."  
"I just hope it changes things, you know?" Ox cut in, poking a stick at the fire. "We shouldn't have to live as enemies because some witches decided it should be so."

Maka was twirling one of her pigtails in thought. "What about you, Crona?"  
Crona had been picking at a marshmallow while Ragnarok hung over their shoulder with the rest of the bag, devouring handfuls at a time. Now they both looked up. "I-i don't know. I never gave it much thought. I never... I never expected to have a life in the outside world."  
"The world's going to be your oyster once these witches are exposed," Maka announced with determination.

Soul rested his hand on his chin, only half listening. Maybe he'd find work at a jazz club. Or go to school with Maka and BlackStar. School seemed kind of lame, but being away from her made him feel sluggish and grumpy. He would put up with textbooks if he had to.

It was sometimes hard to remember that they weren't the same. She was fragile and mortal, but she had fought off a demon well enough on her own. A twang of annoyance struck him as he remembered the incident. That demon was in hell where he belonged, but it had been distressing in ways Soul would never admit, to watch Maka's wounds persist while his echoed ones healed in days. He remembered running his fingers over the angry red marks on her collarbone -- 

Maka's gaze turned to him, curious. A smile played at her lips. "What?" She asked, and Soul shrugged. "You were annoyed, and then you got all flustered," she pointed out. His hand rested on her shoulder again, where he knew the scars were slowly healing.  
"If I told you--"

Soul was cut off as a vibration he felt in his very bones sent the entire rooftop of people shouting in alarm. It filled Soul with a stress he didn't anticipate, and he reached his arm out to snatch Maka closer to his body. She shouted in annoyance as she was toppled sideways, but a feeling that he had almost forgotten swept over him. He met Tsubaki's eyes over the panicking crowd, and she nodded slowly.

"What happened?" Maka asked, wriggling from his grasp and pushing her messed up hair out of her eyes. "What was that sound?"  
"Let's just say, someone just made a very, very big sandwich." Maka paled, understanding his meaning immediately. She stood up and shouted to the others, directing them towards the stairs.

"I don't know what I was expecting. It seems so soon, i--" Maka was freaking out, and he could feel the tightness of her panic in his chest.  
"We can do this, no sweat," Soul reassured her, taking her by the shoulders. "We'll stop it.  
"We'll try."  
"No, we will." He held up his smallest finger with a smirk. "Pinky swear."

Maka looked at his hand, which he had extended in just the way she had taught him. With a reluctant smile, she reached up and hooked their fingers together. Her hand was cold, and he surpressed the urge to take it between his. They had places to be, after all.

Downstairs, as they had rehearsed with Stein, the students collected their things. Soul watched nervously as Maka picked up her satchel, containing ingredients he could smell from across the room. However, with the exception of the ones like BlackStar who could throw special written tags, Soul wasn't sure how much that sort of stuff would really help; the rune exorcists would have no time to draw complex circles in a hurry. Better than going in bare, he supposed. 

"Just as we discussed. No time to waste," insisted Stein, moving so quickly past Soul that he almost didn't catch what the professor had said. Stein looked troubled, moreso than Soul had ever seen him. And fair enough too; apocalypses tended to sour one's mood substantially, if one was too mortal to survive it.

Soul glanced at Maka and frowned.

"Everyone, into the vans," demanded a voice, and Soul spotted Kid flying down the stairs, fully dressed in that weird suit he always wore. Soul wasn't 100% on human fashion, but the outfit always struck him as odd. Now certainly wasn't the time to be contemplating this, but nervousness tended to do that to a person. 

Maka was out the door in seconds, focussed on the task now. Soul followed behind, pushing down the nervousness that gripped him. He had never done anything like this before. How had it all ended up like this? He was busy contemplating this when someone touched his arm, and he turned to find Tsubaki, gnawing at her lip.

"Does it worry you, too?" She asked, the look on her face grave. "To be doing the most dangerous thing of your life, while your life force is tied to a mortal?"  
Soul stopped, turning the question over in his mind. Ahead of them, dozens were piling into vehicles. Would they all come back? "Without risk there isn't meaning, ya know?"  
She stared for a moment, then smiled softly. "I suppose I can see that."

The two of them were the last to cram in. Maka had ended up in a different car, and for some reason that stressed him out more than anything else. Time felt like it mattered more now, and the car ride felt like twenty minutes of her he was missing out on. And it seemed like he wasn't the only one who felt this way, as a cry of disgust from BlackStar brought him back to reality.

"Could you NOT do that in my LAP!?" He barked, and Soul turned in his seat to find him trying to shove Kim out of his personal space. Unfortunately she didn't seem to hear him, because she was too busy aggressively making out with Jacqueline.  
"Awww," cooed Tsubaki.  
"As long as they have their seatbelts on," Shrugged Ox from the driver's seat.  
"I think she elbowed my spleen," BlackStar grumbled, shoving the pair upright.  
Crona, who had been quietly wringing their hands, flinched as their fused demon spring from their back. "Now or never right, kids?" His cackle was unnerving, piercing the wholesome, if sloppy, moment. 

Soul straightened in his seat. Now or never.

At first, when they pulled up at the school, it was eerily quiet. When Soul imagined a portal to hell, he pictured swirling maelstroms and hellish screeching. Instead it was like all the animals had sensed an incoming storm and had cleared out entirely. There were no bugs chirping, no mice in the bushes or owls in the sky. 

"Blair!" Maka shouted incredulously, and Soul turned to find her hopping out of her car, gaping at her housemate. "What are you doing here?"  
"I thought I'd better make an appearance," sighed the woman, tossing her lilac hair.  
"But you don't even--"  
Blair cut her off with a gentle shush. "I can handle myself. You're the one with someone else to worry about," she winked, dipping her head towards Soul before slinking away between the vehicles. Maka turned to him, confusion as evident on her face as it was in their link.

"You look surprised," Soul commented, chuckling to himself. She drifted over to him, reaching for his hands without thinking as she watched after Blair.  
"I am surprised. How did she even know--" Maka stopped as Soul pressed his lips to her temple. "What was that for?"  
Now or never, chanted Ragnarok. "Just in case."  
"We pinky swore, remember?" She smiled at him. "There is no just in case."  
"Right," he smiled, though he didn't entirely feel it. Now that they were here, part of him wanted to carry her far away from the danger. But he knew that wasn't possible now. 

"Hey," Harvar murmured from behind Soul, and he turned. Harvar's attention was distant. "Do you hear that?"  
"Hear what?" BlackStar demanded.  
"A--"  
"A rumble," Kid finished, striding into the group. Now that he mentioned it, Soul could feel the earth beneath his feet was humming. Below the nervous chatter, a deep, thunderous sound persisted. "The gate is open."  
"Then why aren't there... Ya know...." BlackStar asked, gesturing vaguely. "Hellspawn?"  
"Rude," Muttered Liz.  
"Probably," Interrupt Stein, striding into the crowd. "Because they are waiting for us to join the party."

Well, this was it. Maka's hand found Soul's, and he let the hum of her soul fuel his transformation. Whatever he had found on earth, he was about to fight for all of it.


End file.
